


Escape from Wonderland

by childoftimemagicandmystery



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky joins the Avengers (eventually), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Healing, I mean everyone is really protective of each other (but especially of Bucky), M/M, Male Slash, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Bucky, Protective Steve, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 40,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childoftimemagicandmystery/pseuds/childoftimemagicandmystery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is recovering from everything he went through as the Winter Soldier. He still can't remember and he acts childishly at first, but when he does remember, all hell breaks loose (though in a good way, mostly). Basically it's all the hurt/comfort/angst/crack you ever wanted from the Winter Soldier (I hope). Eventually there's light, fluffy Steve/Bucky and Bucky joins the Avengers once he's up for it. Should be a fun ride!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Please lemme know what you think when you finish reading (kudos and comments are GREATLY appreciated) and try to keep comments positive or constructive because blatantly negative ones keep me up at night. Updates may be slow because I want this to be PERFECT for all of you. Thank you and enjoy!

Bucky wakes up in the dark. He can’t remember his dream, but it was bad enough to make him wake up, shivering and sweating and feeling completely disoriented. Where am I? He looks around in the dark and as his eyes adjust, he sees a bedroom.

“Where am I?” he asks the otherwise empty room. No one answers him. Everything is both familiar and unfamiliar. Is it real or is it just another dream?

“Where am I?” he calls out louder, his hands shaking as he brings them to his head protectively. He hears a sleepy voice reply from outside the door.

“Bucky, you okay?” The door is pushed open slightly, and Bucky puts his left arm in front of him defensively. His eyes are wide with fear and confusion and Alexander Pierce walks in, rubbing the back of his head as though he just woke up. Bucky takes a sharp intake of breath when he sees him, recognizes him, and instantly wants to be anywhere but where he is right now. Not Pierce, not again.

“Get away from me,” he growls, sitting up and backing himself against the headboard, “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me…” His voice is shaking and he edges towards the end of the bed.

“Hey, it’s just me, come on, you’re okay,” Pierce says insistently, putting one arm out in front of him cautiously. “Bucky?” Bucky shakes his head. This can’t be Pierce. Pierce didn’t call him by his name.

“Who…?” Bucky mutters, narrowing his eyes and backing up until he hits the wall, the corner of the room. He’s trapped.

“It’s just me, Bucky, what’s wrong?” Pierce asks with concern, and then he suddenly dissolves in front of him, and it’s Rumlow, not Pierce. That would make a little more sense. But it didn’t make this any better.

“No,” Bucky says firmly, “Don’t touch me, not again. Not again…please, I don’t want you to.”

“What are you talking about?” Rumlow asks in a rough voice, “I would never touch you without your permission.”

“Don’t lie!” Bucky shouts angrily all of a sudden, feeling and looking more like a cornered animal every time Rumlow takes another step. “You know what you did and I won’t let you do it again. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t, you can’t…I’m not yours.”

Rumlow stops moving towards him, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “You don’t belong to anyone. You are your own person, you’re free. HYDRA doesn’t own you anymore.”

“Then what are you still doing here?” Bucky growls before taking a swipe at his head. He remembers too many intensely uncomfortable experiences with Rumlow to trust him. Rumlow ducks and barely misses getting hit and comes up with a very hurt expression. Bucky scowls at him and curls in on himself, barely containing the energy that’s screaming for him to lunge and snap his neck. Hurt him. Make him suffer the way Bucky had while Rumlow stood by and watched and then pretended to be a friend later. Everything he was was a lie.

“Bucky Barnes,” Rumlow says softly, in a voice Bucky had only heard a few times from him and those were times he cared not to remember. He crinkles his nose in disgust, but Rumlow pushes on. “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, you grew up in Brooklyn, and your best friend was St - ”

“Don’t talk about Steve!” Bucky snarls, lunging at Rumlow, who looks surprised. He shouldn’t. “You don’t know him or me and I won’t let you…!” He pins Rumlow to the ground, who doesn’t bother fighting back, which is surprising, but also helpful. Bucky can smash his skull in in one quick move and they both know it. He pulls back his metal fist to deliver the killing blow. Rumlow screams,

“Bucky, DON’T!”

The vision breaks and Steve’s face is the one Bucky’s about to smash in. Bucky’s determined look turns into one of horror as he breathes,

“Oh God…” and he rolls off of Steve’s body, kneeling on the floor next to him. “Steve, I am so – I could have killed you…I almost…I was going to…” Steve pants as he sits up and looks at Bucky.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t hurt me. You wouldn’t have. I’m safe now, it’s okay…” Bucky shakes his head in disagreement and leans forward. He puts both hands out in front of him to hold up his weight as he takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. The image won’t go away now, Steve’s face in front of him, about to get pummeled into the floor. Steve puts out a hand to try and steady Bucky, mentally and physically, who is now shaking violently and trying to keep down a panic attack. Bucky throws up on the rug, or maybe a more apt description would be dry heaving because he didn’t eat dinner with Steve like he usually did. He chokes up water mostly, and Steve lets him ride it out before interfering. When Bucky seems done, he tries softly,

“Bucky?” Usually Bucky responds with a monotone ‘That’s not my name’, but he can’t bring himself to do it now. He decides to ignore it, sits up and stares blankly at the wall. “Buck?”

“Leave me alone,” Bucky says simply, and hesitates before adding, “Please.” Steve holds in a sigh as he leaves the room, respecting Bucky’s wishes momentarily, before returning with a large glass of water and a small piece of chocolate.

“Drink this and eat that,” Steve orders, “You’ll feel better.”

“I just threw that up and I don’t see the use in eating chocolate.”

“You need to stay hydrated,” Steve pushes, “And the chocolate will give you some positive energy. It can’t hurt.” He gives Bucky a small smile. “For me, please?” Bucky scowls at him. The little broken ‘please’ always breaks his resolve and Steve knows it. Living together for six months teaches them both quite a bit about each other. They both still have a lot to learn.

That doesn’t mean Bucky has to like it.

He takes the glass out of Steve’s hand and downs the water. He shifts the glass into his left hand and is about to take the chocolate when he hears glass shattering. Bucky looks down, knowing what he’ll see, and closes his eyes in frustration when he sees pieces of the broken water glass in the rug and in the joints of his metal hand.

“Fuck,” he curses quietly. It’s the only curse word he can remember. Must be something he said a lot.

“It’s alright,” Steve says after a second, “I’ll get it.” He leans forward to start cleaning it up and Bucky whips out his right hand to stop him, forcing Steve back.

“You’ll cut yourself,” he says shortly, before he starts picking up the pieces gingerly with his metal hand.

“Bucky, I’m not helpless…”

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky growls. The name triggers pain more than anything. His animosity towards it has nothing to do with personal preference. He bats Steve’s hand away impatiently and Steve swats back.

“Fine, quit it, I’m trying to help – dammit, Bucky!” Bucky shoves him away hard and picks up the pieces faster so Steve can’t. Steve frowns at him and stands up when Bucky does. Bucky makes a tight fist with his metal hand and crushes the glass into dust. He pulls Steve’s hand up with his right hand, opens his palm, and lets the glass dust fall into Steve’s involuntarily open hand.

“There,” Bucky says, “Now go.”

“I’m trying to help you,” Steve repeats stupidly, looking slightly hurt.

“I know. Get out.” Bucky knows Steve is trying to help; he’d have to be dumb not to realize that, especially considering Steve repeats it every time something goes wrong that Bucky won’t let him help with. The knowledge of Steve’s intentions doesn’t change how Bucky feels about the whole situation: he wants to keep Steve safe, and the only way he can do that is to keep him away from him as much as possible. He sees every day how heavy Steve’s shoulders are with the weight of his responsibility as Captain America, not even taking into account the extra weight put there by Bucky’s reappearance and seeming refusal to help himself. He knows Steve isn’t safe with him around, nor is he healthy. He is sleep-deprived, constantly anxious, and unwilling to leave the apartment. It’s only Bucky’s selfish desire to be around Steve that keeps him there at all, even knowing what it’s doing to Steve mentally and physically.

Steve’s friends know it too. The red-haired woman who he was introduced to (who looked vaguely familiar) named Natasha, and the man with wings named Sam both come over regularly to check on Steve and (though it’s never explicitly talked about) make sure he isn’t dead or dying. When Bucky’s out of the room and they think he can’t hear them, they talk to Steve about how unhealthy it is for him to be cooped up around the apartment all the time with only one companion who will barely talk to him and gives him harmful amounts of stress and worry.  They don’t have a problem with Bucky himself, but rather the situation in general.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Steve asks, breaking Bucky’s train of thought and straightening up to try not looking like a kicked puppy, “About tomorrow?”

Bucky shrugs as if it doesn’t matter, but he knows Steve is probably right. The nightmares aren’t usually this severe and for the last month out of seven, Steve hasn’t had to interfere at all to wake him up for the most part. Tonight had been particularly unpleasant.

“I think you’re ready,” Steve continues with a deep breath, “I believe in you. They all want to meet you and Tony and Bruce want to help maybe make your arm a bit more manageable. It’ll be good for you.” _For both of us._ He reaches out as if to touch the metal arm, but he knows Bucky doesn’t like it to be touched, so he drops his hand when he remembers.

“You may even get your memories back,” he says hopefully. Bucky indulges him with a small forced smile before climbing back into bed and turning over so he isn’t facing him anymore. His long hair falls in his face and he doesn’t move it. Steve sighs and pulls the cover up a little further over Bucky affectionately. It’s the most he can do without touching him. Bucky knows, and he regrets the feeling of nausea he gets when Steve, or anyone really, touches him at all. A gentle touch that he should feel good about generates a sick feeling thanks to the guys at HYDRA whose gentle touches meant they were analyzing or about to strike him.

“Night,” Steve says finally before leaving the room. Bucky waits until he’s gone before he repeats under his breath,

“Night.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! There's a tad more drama this chapter :3 Don't forget to review if you get a chance!

Bucky impatiently ties his hair back the next morning. He finds a rubber band sitting on the bookshelf and grabs it to tie his hair back into a haphazard ponytail. A few strands in the front fall in his face, but for the most part it’s no longer in his way. He suddenly feels lighter without the hair hanging around his neck and wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner.

Steve chokes on his water when Bucky walks into the kitchen with his ponytail. Bucky doesn’t see the significance of that or why he does it, so he chooses to ignore Steve until he grabs a glass of milk for himself, being very careful not to use his left hand to do so. Steve recovers quickly, to his credit, and casually asks,

“Um, what is the, uh…?” he motions to the back of his head and Bucky does the same motion, smacking the ponytail as he does so. “Ponytail?”

“Oh,” Bucky says thoughtfully, “It keeps the hair out of my face. It feels better.”

“O-okay,” Steve replies, not going to be the one to get rid of something Bucky likes. When Bucky finishes his milk, he has a thick strip of white across his upper lip that Steve smirks at. Steve stands and gets a napkin, hands it to Bucky, and gestures to his upper lip. Bucky touches it gently, dabbing, before Steve grabs the napkin and wipes it off himself.

“Milk mustache,” Steve clarifies, resisting the urge to call him a childish name. Bucky raises an eyebrow but says nothing before leaving the room in silence to get ready for the day.

~

When they arrive at Avengers Tower (previously Stark tower), Bucky fidgets nervously with his hands. Natasha and Clint greet the pair first, as Tony and Bruce are busy preparing the lab.

“Hey,” Natasha says, careful not to say his name. She can see it hurts him, even if Steve doesn’t. “This is Clint Barton. Clint, this is Steve’s friend.”

“Nice to meet you,” Clint says with a smile and a genuine look of curiosity on his face. He puts out his hand for Bucky to shake, and Bucky looks at it blankly. Clint pulls his hand away awkwardly and says hello to Steve. When Tony and Bruce come in, Tony acknowledges both of them with obnoxious nicknames, much to Steve’s dismay:

“Well if it isn’t the Star Spangled Man with a Plan and Anastasia!”

“Can you not…?” Steve starts, while Bucky is busy looking confused about the Anastasia part. Tony cocks his head to the side with interest at Bucky’s reaction and asks,

“Would you prefer Optimus Prime maybe? Or Starbucks?”

“Tony, can you not be a dick today?” Natasha requests nonchalantly from behind him.

“Maybe,” Tony says dismissively, “I can give you a name too if you like. How does Catwoman sound…?” Natasha rolls her eyes and apologizes to Steve and Bucky,

“Sorry, he’s super hyper today. Not sure why.”

“I’ve got it!” Tony says, snapping his fingers, “When I’m referring to both of them I can call them Starbucks! Get it?” Bruce sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Focus, Tony,” he grumbles, “Please. Inside voice.” Steve and Bucky both look confused now.

“I can’t believe we never took you to Starbucks,” Tony says excitedly, though not in the loud voice he was using before, “I can’t wait to see what happens to a super-soldier on three shots of expresso. Not to mention two super-soldiers...”

“Oh my God,” Natasha laughs, “Tony, no…”

“Tony, yes,” Tony hisses, gesturing wildly with his hands and looking slightly mad. Steve raises an eyebrow inquisitively and Bruce explains,

“I may or may not have been messing with his coffee in revenge, and I may or may not have made him more hyper than he already is, usually.”

“I can see that,” Steve says, a smile creeping over his face, “So what’s the plan, then?”

“That’s up to you,” Bruce shrugs, “He…well, we can either give you the tour of the place first and then do the lab thing later, or we can do lab first and tour later. I would suggest the latter only because you can get it over with faster and then relax.” Steve looks at Bucky questioningly just as someone walks in behind them. Bucky whips around and nearly smacks the visitor when the visitor stops his flying arm and smiles down at the both of them like a benevolent god. Which he sort of is.

“Steve!” Thor says happily, “It’s good to see you again. Is this your friend, James son of Barnes?”

“Um,” Steve says, just as Bucky furiously tries to free his arm. Steve puts out his arm gently to gesture to Bucky that Thor is a friend. “Yeah.”

“Wonderful,” Thor chortles, “Jane and I have just moved into Avengers Tower and I must say, it is quite a fascinating facility. The technology is ancient compared to Asgard, but it is comfortable. Jane loves it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve says, smiling at his friend. Tony snorts at Thor’s comment about the technology, muttering mutinously under his breath,

“Ancient technology, I’ll show _you_ ancient technology…your _mom_ is ancient technology.” Thor hears the last comment and pats Tony on the head a bit too hard. Tony complains petulantly and walks away still muttering under his breath. Bruce gives Steve an expectant look and Steve sighs.

“Okay, I guess lab first.”

“Lab what?” both Bucky and Clint ask at the same time, prompting a surprised look from Steve.

“Tony’s lab,” Steve says meekly, gesturing over his shoulder half-heartedly, “To help Bucky.” Bucky’s face darkens at that and he stares determinedly at the floor. Natasha gives him a sympathetic look, which is completely lost on him as Bruce leads them to the lab.

~

Bucky gets a cagey look the minute they step foot in the lab. He shrinks back and follows Steve, though reluctantly. When they notice, Steve lightly puts his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. Per usual, Bucky shrinks away from his touch and refuses to look at him.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, “You’re going to be okay. I will be here the whole time. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but I think you’ll be happy with the result. Bucky?”

“Shut up,” Bucky moans, reflexively putting his hands to his ears. Steve looks at Bruce and Tony for help before realizing they won’t have much to do.

“Bucky,” Steve says more firmly, “Do you trust me?” Bucky hesitates before slowly, and ever so cautiously, nodding his head. He takes his hands away from his ears and straightens up, though he won’t look at anything besides Steve, as if he’s scared to look. It’s a very controlled stare. Steve holds his hand out for Bucky to take and Bucky stares at it for a minute before gently pressing his left hand into Steve’s. This is unusual only because he almost never wants or lets Steve touch the metal, as if he’s ashamed of it. It’s progress, if nothing else.

Steve leads Bucky carefully to the hospital bed in the middle of the room that’s very deliberately designed not to look like exactly what it is. Mostly what that means is that it’s covered in a hot pink sheet instead of a white one. Steve also notices, with appreciation, that Tony and Bruce dressed casually rather than in white lab coats. There is only so much they can do to disguise the fact that they are in a lab, but they seem to be doing their best.

Tony approaches Bucky once he’s settled into the bed and asks, “Comfy?” Bucky shakes his head, but Tony ignores him. It’s not meant to be comfortable and neither Bucky nor Tony particularly cares. Steve frowns at both of them, but they ignore him, too. They’re both too focused on what Tony’s doing.

Tony raises an eyebrow at Bucky and wipes the inside of his arm with something cold and smelling of chemicals.

“What is that?” Bucky asks, breathing a little faster.

“Numbs you,” Tony murmurs, not particularly worried about what Bucky’s thinking. Steve frowns again at Tony and asks,

“Like before a shot?” Bucky looks up at Steve fearfully just as Tony whips out a needle faster than any of them can blink and plunges it into Bucky’s arm.

“Exactly,” he says, as he pushes the liquid into Bucky’s veins. Bucky shouts in surprise and smacks Tony away with his metal arm in a panic and Steve yells, “Tony!” before diving over to stop Bucky or Tony from hurting the other. Bruce pulls Steve back and away, wrapping both of his arms around the super soldier and going a little green to get the strength to pull him away.

“What are you doing?” Steve shouts at Tony, just as Bucky’s head lolls to the side like a ragdoll and he goes unconscious. Tony gives Steve an apologetic look and motions with his head for Bruce to take him outside. He barely manages to, with Steve scraping at the door and pulling a small piece of the wall out with him. Bruce has to drag Captain America kicking and screaming from the room as Thor comes around the corner to see what the commotion is.

“Doctor Banner,” he says with his eyebrows furrowed, “What are you doing to Steve?” Bruce turns a little greener and says,

“Help me hold him still, please, Thor. I have to talk to him and he won’t stop kicking me and I don’t want to uh…Hulk out.” He says it as evenly as he can manage, but the fact that Steve won’t stop struggling makes it very hard for him to keep Hulk down. Thor purses his lips together in confusion, but he takes Steve from Bruce and pins his arms and legs with his large arms by wrapping them around Steve’s middle.

“Why would you do that?” Steve yells at Bruce, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Steve,” Bruce says tightly, “Relax. Bucky’s fine. We gave him anesthesia.”

“I know what you gave him!” Steve says, pouting now, but starting to relax in Thor’s grip. Thor puts him down slowly like a delicate doll and crosses his arms. “Why?”

“We agreed on it before you came,” Bruce says, “Although it wasn’t my idea, and I was never particularly thrilled about it. Tony decided that it was safer for everyone involved if he was unconscious. He didn’t want any incidents in the lab. It’s his baby.”

“I don’t care if it’s his first born child,” Steve shoots back, “You didn’t even ask me. You could have talked to me – to us! He doesn’t deserve this. He’s a human being, not a toy or a specimen! Bucky may have even given you permission - did you think of that?” Bruce takes a deep breath to soothe himself before saying patiently,

“I know. I’m sorry. But you have to agree he’s unstable, sometimes catastrophically so.”

“So are you,” Steve growls harshly. Bruce puts his hands out to either side.

“Do you see me Hulking out right now, Steve? No. I can control it, mostly, he can’t yet. You saw how jumpy he was in there - ”

 “Yes, and surprising him with more needles and blackouts is _exactly_ what he needs to trust us! Brilliant, Bruce, that’s just brilliant!” Steve says overenthusiastically, his words laced with heavy sarcasm. He walks past Bruce and back into the lab. Tony is already running tests on Bucky’s left arm.

“You’re a real jerk,” Steve hisses at Tony like an angry cat, and trying very hard not to use stronger language, “I hope you know that.”

“Ouch,” Tony says sarcastically, not even looking at Steve, “I’m hurt, I really am.” Steve considers hitting him before noticing with satisfaction a welt developing where Bucky already did. _Good_. The fact that he was thinking so violently scares him, so he sits down next to Bucky to cool his nerves.

Steve reaches out and takes Bucky’s right hand in his own, holding it tightly as if letting go would mean losing Bucky again. Bruce sighs when he sees Steve back in the lab. Thor looks slightly confused and leaves, after asking Bruce if everything is okay now. Bucky looks helpless, skinnier than Steve thought he was, with his hair tied back in that stupid ponytail… He would give anything to switch places with him so Bucky wouldn't have had to be in pain, now or ever. He can’t fathom how badly he’s really hurting, but he can and does try.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, these updates are fast because I've already written them, but once I catch up with everything written and I have to write as I post basically, they will be slower. That shouldn't be for a while though. Hang in there :) Don't forget to leave kudos or reviews, I love them!

When Bucky wakes up, he’s confused and angry. Something like regret bubbles in the pit of his stomach before he suddenly recognizes the feeling. _Betrayal._

Steve is seated in the chair next to him, fast asleep and holding his hand. Bucky roughly pulls his hand out of Steve’s grip, effectively waking him up.

“Hey, Buck, how are you feeling?” Steve asks him sleepily.

“Okay,” Bucky says, though he’s glowering at Steve, “Would be better if you hadn’t tricked me.” Steve looks momentarily surprised before saying,

“Oh, no, that wasn’t me, Tony and Bruce thought - ”

“I trusted you,” Bucky fumes, “I _trusted_ you.” Steve looks like someone hit him. His mouth was slightly open in shock and hurt.

“You can trust me. I didn’t know they were going to do that.”

“I trusted you,” Bucky repeats for a third time, “And you trusted them. It seems we were both mistaken.”

“No, Bucky - ” Steve protests, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Don’t touch me!” Bucky shouts, “And I’m NOT him!” He slams his metal hand down on the table beside him, leaving a huge dent that a few of Tony’s tools fall into. Bucky starts repeating the way he does when he’s especially distressed. “I’m not, I’m not, I’m not, I’m NOT…!” Steve’s eyes fill with tears as he tries to get Bucky to stop smashing the table.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have let you go, I should have saved you, I’m sorry…” The two are repeating themselves ridiculously, with Steve trying to calm Bucky down until finally someone comes in and sees what’s going on. Right as they enter, Bucky hits Steve across the room, who then promptly sits where he lands and looks at his friend powerlessly.

Clint walks across the room quickly and grabs Bucky’s metal wrist, which is once again banging the table repeating, “I’m not, I’m not, I’m not” again and stops him. The surprise makes Bucky pause for a minute before he snarls and grabs Clint by the throat.

“Clint! Bu – Don’t!” Steve yells, his voice catching in his throat. Clint grabs Bucky’s metal arm with both hands and chokes out,

“Don’t do this, we’re friends. We’re _your_ friends.”

“I don’t have friends,” Bucky sneers, “I can’t trust any of you.”

“You can trust me,” Clint says, surprisingly calm for being strangled, “And Steve. If there’s no one else you want to trust, trust just us.”

“Steve lied to me,” Bucky says plainly, “He said I’d be safe here, but this is just like HYDRA!” He loosens his grip on his throat as if some part of him wants Clint to talk him down, talk him out of it.

“Tony’s an asshole,” Clint manages to say lightly, “You’ll learn that soon enough. That’s not Steve’s fault. I know what you’re going through and ACK!” Bucky tightens his grip on Clint’s throat, making his neck turn a bit purple as Bucky says forcefully,

“You have no _idea_ what I’m going through. Don’t pretend you know me. You’re just as bad as him.” Steve makes a strangled noise from behind Clint as he watches the scene unravel before him. He should stop it, but he feels glued to the floor.

“It feels like someone took you out and stuffed somebody else inside,” Clint says, choosing his words carefully, mimicking the time he had to explain to Natasha what it felt like to be controlled, “You hate being controlled but you can’t help it. But you have it worse than me. You weren’t taken out; someone else was stuffed back inside with you still in there. You’re stuck with two lives and you don’t know which one you can have. You’re scared to pick one, or you can’t pick the one you want for some reason.” Bucky opens his mouth in astonishment and drops Clint hastily. Clint falls to the floor, gasping for air and pawing at his throat. The bruises will show in the morning.

“How?” Bucky demands, his face no longer contorted with anger, but instead with slight awe, as if he admires Clint. Despite the situation, Steve can’t help but feeling a bit jealous.

“I went through something similar a bit ago,” Clint says, standing slowly and rubbing the back of his neck. “Did some not great things. I can’t say I went through what you did, but I get it. I can try to understand what’s going on in your head.” Bucky swallows nervously and nods at him, his eyes wide, as though happy to feel like he’s made a real connection with someone. Steve stands up and makes his way over to the bed, his jaw taking on an ugly purple color.

“You okay, buddy?” he asks, relieved Clint could talk some sense into him. Bucky scowls again at Steve and turns his head down and away so he doesn’t have to look at him. “I…” Clint looks at Steve with a raised eyebrow and pokes Bucky haphazardly in the shoulder.

“Hey, it’s Steve, you’re alright. What’s the matter now?” Bucky doesn’t reply, just shrugs his shoulders like a child who doesn’t want to have to come up with an excuse to do or neglect to do something. Steve and Clint exchange a worried glance. Steve deflates visibly and manages to say,

“I’ll um…I’ll just go then,” before he leaves the room, an emotion he doesn’t recognize and hasn’t felt in forever bubbles in the pit of his stomach. Tony is out in the hallway, picking his teeth with a toothpick and he gives Steve a surprised look.

“Where’s Frankenstein?” Steve tries and fails to keep his temper. He grabs Tony by the front of the shirt and slams him into the wall he was leaning against, hard. It wouldn’t be enough to say Tony is surprised so much as completely in shock. “Hey, what’s the big idea - ?”  

“Don’t talk about him like that, Stark,” Steve spits, before realizing what he’s done. He takes his shaking hands away from Tony’s shirt and clears his throat. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” It wasn’t really, and both of them knew it, but Steve being Steve felt the need to apologize.

“Yeah,” Tony says, before seeing deep hurt in Steve’s eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Steve says too quickly before storming past him and back to his room.

~

Steve is lying spread-eagled on his bed when he hears a small knock at the door. He sits up and starts untying and tying his shoe as he calls, “Come in.” Natasha peeks in with a gentle,

“Hey, Cap.”

“Hey ‘Tasha,” he grunts back, “Did you need something?” She leans against the doorframe, looking at him thoughtfully before coming in completely and closing the door behind her.

“Clint told me what happened,” says Natasha quietly, “He wanted you to know that wasn’t his intention to - ”

“I don’t really care about Clint right now,” snaps Steve, “How’s Bucky?”

“Fine,” she says, slightly impatiently, “He’s perfectly fine. I mean, albeit being brainwashed for fifty years. I’m here to talk about you right now.”

“What’s to talk about?” he asks innocently, though it’s obvious he’s upset.

“You never were a great liar, Cap,” she teases lightly, sitting beside him on the bed, clasping her hands and putting them between her legs. “Look. Bucky’s confused right now. Once he realizes who’s who, he’ll come back to you, I swear. You’re the only one he trusts.”

“Not anymore,” Steve says simply, “I’d say he imprinted on Barton like a baby duck. He wouldn’t even talk to me after Clint talked to him.”

“He’s _confused,_ Steve - ”

“Yeah, so you keep telling me,” says Steve irritably.

“Are you jealous? I understand if you are; I would be in your place,” says Natasha honestly.

“Jealous of…? No. I’m fine, Natasha, he’s allowed to have friends besides me.” Steve doesn’t meet her gaze when she looks at him.

“You’re just upset ‘cos he won’t talk to you anymore,” she clarifies, “Right?”

“Sure, yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, well, let’s prove to him that he can trust you. The only reason Bucky’s pissed is because he thinks you had something to do with Bruce and Tony freaking him out with the anesthesia.”

“Which I didn’t,” Steve interrupts with a hiss, “For the record.”

“I know,” she says with a small smile, “Don’t worry, Steve, we’ll fix this.”

“Okay,” he grumbles, “I hope so.” Natasha glances at her watch and says,

“Oh, I almost forgot, Sam’s coming over in an hour. He’s taking a bedroom on your floor – is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says, not paying attention to her, “Sam can do what he wants.” Natasha gives him a sympathetic glance, which he pretends not to see, and she says,

“Hey, feel better, okay? You’ll be fine. And remember, you can’t stay in here all the time. I’ll drag you out if you try it.” Natasha smirks and leaves Steve in peace with his thoughts.


	4. Chapter Four

The first few days, Steve avoids Clint and Bucky altogether. Bucky sleeps on Clint’s floor of the Tower, despite Tony and Clint’s heavy recommendation of Steve’s floor instead. Bucky sticks to him pretty closely for the most part, and whenever Steve walks into a room with the two of them in it, he walks right back out and pretends nothing happened later when Natasha or Sam ask him about it. Sam picks up what’s going on quickly and finally corners Steve to ask him about it.

“What the hell is with you, man? I expected you to be stuck to him like butter on toast, or maybe at least talking to him. But what I did not expect was you _completely avoiding him_. He’s your best friend – what are you doing?” This conversation ensues in the kitchen after Steve walked in and out on Clint trying to teach Bucky to use chopsticks in the dining room. Steve glares at Sam and tries to move around him.

“Sam, move. I’m really not in the mood for this conversation right now.” Sam just crosses his arms and says,

“You’ll have to fight me to get me outta the way. Now tell me what the deal is.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, okay? So I won’t make him. Now move.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all day.”

“Sam…”

“….”

“Fine.” Steve quickly fills Sam in on the incident and Sam just nods and says,

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Sam puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder and says,

“Look. What you gotta understand is that he’s counting on you. Whether he knows it or not, Bucky is counting on you. I’d do what Natasha said. Try to make friends again. How hard can it be?” Steve looks at Sam anxiously.

“Do you think so?”

“It’s worth a try. If not, maybe I can talk to him.” Steve gives him a grateful smile.

“I’ll try. It can’t be that bad.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sam says brightly. He moves out of the way and Steve peeks through the door to the dining room. Clint is laughing because Bucky has managed to get a noodle in his hair with the chopsticks. Clint stops when he sees Steve and waves for him to come in. Steve tentatively takes a seat on Bucky’s other side, who proceeds to stare at him like he’s confused and then turns away quickly. Steve rolls his eyes behind Bucky’s back and Clint gives him a sympathetic look.  

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” Steve asks, pointing at the chopsticks.

“I’m teaching him how to use chopsticks,” Clint says, trying to move the conversation along when Bucky doesn’t answer.

“How’s that going?” Steve asks, directing his question at Bucky again. Without missing a beat, Bucky shoots back,

“Fine. They’re neat, fun to use, and don’t try to stick me with needles.” Steve’s mouth drops open slightly. Where did Bucky pick up _sass_ all of a sudden? After that, any attempt at conversation is futile. Steve finds himself leaving suddenly after ten more minutes and doesn’t look at Sam as he does.

The conversation the next day is the same idea. Natasha orders pizza for the group, which Bucky eats with a happier than usual expression on his face, and when Steve asks him how he likes it, he replies,

“It’s good. It’s cheesy, delicious, and doesn’t smell of complete and utter betrayal.” Tony chokes on his pizza while Natasha claps him on the back. Steve stops asking Bucky ‘how’ questions.

A few days later, Steve stumbles upon Natasha and Clint watching Star Wars with Bucky. Bucky gets a little too into it and starts screaming insults in Russian at Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin when there’s a fight or they fall into a fairly obvious trap. They quickly discover that watching any kind of television with Bucky sparks this behavior, which is simultaneously hilarious and ear-damaging.

Two weeks after Steve and Bucky arrived at Avengers tower, Steve tries again. This time, they’re all watching the cartoon Alice in Wonderland and he manages to sit down quietly next to Bucky, who looks over, seems to acknowledge his presence, and turns his attention back to the television. It’s progress.

Bucky’s asleep before the end of the movie, and his head lolls onto Steve’s shoulder. Natasha and Clint look shocked, and before Steve can ask them why, Clint says,

“He sleeps like an infant. Like he’s a really light sleeper and wakes up to little disturbances. I’ve never seen him sleep so deeply.” Clint smirks at Steve. “Must be you. Whether he knows it or not, you’re a comfort to him.” Steve smiles at Clint.

“Maybe. It’s a nice thought, anyway.”

When the movie ends, Natasha clicks the TV off quietly and points at Bucky as if to ask, ‘What do we do with him now? He can’t sleep down here.’

“Wake him up?” Clint whispers.

“No,” Natasha says sharply, “He needs as much real sleep as he can get.”

“I can take him upstairs,” Steve whispers, brushing a hair out of Bucky’s face, “He’s not that heavy, unless you guys have been stuffing him with junk food or something.” Natasha smirks at that.

“Not me. You’re welcome to try. Night,” she says quietly. Clint waits for Steve to scoop Bucky into his arms and then leads him out of the room. They get off at Clint’s floor, which has a lot of holes in the walls, both big and small – looking as though they’ve been punctured with arrows and dented by fists.

Steve accidentally catches Bucky’s foot against a doorknob, trapping it for a few seconds, which is enough to startle Bucky into waking up with a sharp punch straight up and rolling out of Steve’s arms onto the floor. Steve swears loudly and clutches at his jaw while Bucky recovers and stands up, taking in the situation. Once he seems to realize where he is and why, and it takes him a minute, he relaxes and looks sheepishly at Steve.

“Did I...?” he asks, pointing to Steve’s jaw, which has taken enough beatings from Bucky’s metal arm for a lifetime. Steve nods grimly and rubs it.

“It’ll be fine, you didn’t mean it.”

“Oh. Um…” Bucky looks to Clint for help, who just says awkwardly, “’I’ll go get some ice…” and jogs in the opposite direction towards the small kitchen on his floor.

“Were you…carrying me?” Bucky asks after a second. Steve stops touching his sore face and nods again.

“Yeah, you were fast asleep. We didn’t want to wake you up.” Bucky yawns and asks,

“What happened to Alice?” Steve smiles ironically at him.

“Wonderland was a dream. She woke up back at home with her sister, where she needed to be.” Bucky avoids his gaze, looking down at his hands. They stand in a silence for a minute before Steve tries,

“Hey, did you ever get the hang of those chopsticks?” He gives Bucky a small smile, who just raises his eyes and nods.

“I think Clint and Natasha want to teach me to drive next, or something,” he mumbles, picking at the seam between the metal and flesh. Steve frowns and steps forward to stop him from picking at the thick scar that melds them together.

“Don’t,” he says softly, brushing his hand away lightly. Bucky finally looks at him with a curious expression, his lips parted in confusion.

“Why not?”

“You’ll make it bleed. You’ll make it hurt,” Steve says, taking a step back.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” says Bucky, firmly, “At least it’ll feel like something.”

“Buck…what’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky shrugs and starts scratching at it again as if it doesn’t matter. But now Steve’s trying to keep down the lump in his throat.

“What do you feel?” asks Steve, looking at Bucky with concern as he bats his hand away from his shoulder again. Bucky shrugs again and grimaces when Clint comes back from behind Steve and says,

“Use your words, man. Can’t understand you if you don’t talk.” He hands Steve an ice pack to apply to his jaw as Bucky says slowly, as if only realizing how to articulate it now,

“Always…cold.” He tests the words on his tongue as if to make sure they sound right in context. “Or…I go back to being cold. If I am not cold, I will be cold soon, or later. Empty.” He looks disappointed and then continues, “I want to be full – or, um, not empty. I want to be warm.” He looks at them hopefully, as if saying this will appease them. Clint and Steve exchange a look. Steve raises an eyebrow at him that says ‘let me try first’.

Still holding the ice pack to his jaw, Steve takes a step closer to Bucky. Bucky doesn’t flinch or grimace anymore like he was a couple days ago as if expecting Steve to stab him with another needle of betrayal. He seems to trust him again, or at least he wants to.

“What would make you happy, Buck?” He doesn’t yell about the nickname anymore, which is progress. Bucky looks confused for a minute.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he says in a small voice, cocking his head to the side, “You haven’t given me anything to do.” Well, that’s news to Steve. But he knows what it means.

“My happiness shouldn’t make or break your happiness,” Steve says gently, resisting the strong urge to put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and make him look at him. Bucky’s eyes flick downward again and he worries his lip unconsciously. “We are not Alexander Pierce. We are not here to give you things to do. You choose what you want to do with your life.” Everyone gets tense upon mention of Pierce, and suddenly Bucky poses a question:

“What happened to Rumlow?” Steve narrows his eyes and asks,

“What happened to…he’s…recovering. His body is covered in burns, but he survived. Why do you ask? He’ll never hurt you again, I swear it.” Bucky looks very much relieved, which makes the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck raise. “Why? What did he do to you?” Bucky looks severely uncomfortable now as he shifts his weight to his right foot, picking at his scar again as he murmurs something about,

“Too close…didn’t like it…wouldn’t leave me alone…” Steve’s jaw hardens as he exchanges a discreet look with Clint. Bucky continues mumbling, “My hair…my arms…my back…my legs…no one was watching...in charge of me…couldn’t make him stop…” Steve tries hard to stop himself from punching a wall. HYDRA was worse than he ever imagined. Bucky had already endured verbal and physical abuse from HYDRA, and Steve didn’t really think it could get much worse.

“Steve,” says Clint in a warning tone. Steve notices his fingernails are digging into the palms of his hands where he made fists, making marks deep enough to bleed. When he releases his fingers, he notices a small trickle of blood coming up from each indent.

“Great,” Steve breathes, “Perfect.” He returns his attention to Bucky and says seriously,

“Rumlow will _never_ touch you again, I promise. And while we’re at it, Tony won’t stick any more needles in you without your permission. Okay?” Bucky nods and yawns again, and Clint steps forward, arms crossed. Bucky looks at both of them with concern and says,

“I made you mad.” Steve immediately drops his expression and does his best to make his face blank, and he notices Clint does the same.

“No, no, no,” says Steve quickly, consoling him again, “We’re not mad. Just…thoughtful.” Bucky looks not wholly convinced, but he lets them get away with it for now. Steve gives him a tight smile and says,

“Do you need anything else? I’m going to bed.” Bucky and Clint shake their heads and Steve waves over his shoulder as he walks away.

“Night,” he calls. Clint doesn’t reply, walking to his bedroom, leaving Bucky standing in the hallway watching Steve leave. When Steve turns around in the elevator to press the button, Bucky smiles at him across the hallway, waving, and says,

“Night.” Steve can’t help but grin back at him and wave. Bucky does that until the elevator doors close. He slowly lowers his arm and stares at the elevator until he’s sure Steve is gone for the night. He frowns, feeling something like regret. He starts walking towards the elevator when the disembodied voice that is Jarvis (that thankfully he’s gotten used to now – the first time he heard him, he started punching out randomly, thinking he was being attacked) chimes in,

“Sir, I believe your bedroom is in the opposite direction. It would be unwise to follow Captain Rogers at this hour of the night if he is not expecting you.” Bucky tsks at Jarvis’ interference and he snaps,

“Shut up.” He turns back around and walks towards the extra room on Clint’s floor, unsure as to whether he really would have followed Steve or not.

“I did not mean to offend, Sergeant Barnes,” Jarvis says politely, “I only meant that you may surprise him if he is not expecting to see you. It might be wiser to try again tomorrow.” Bucky rolls his eyes and climbs into bed, ignoring Jarvis and trying to keep the nightmares at bay for now.


	5. Chapter Five

The next morning is something akin to a nightmare. The night went smoothly, and Pepper made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. Bucky has his hair tied back the way he likes it, which everyone got used to and didn’t question in the first place, and for once everyone has time to sit and eat breakfast together. Pepper manages to badger Tony and Bruce away from the lab, and she’s the only one who can wake Natasha up early without getting slapped, besides maybe Steve or Jane.

Unfortunately when Bucky walks into the kitchen, he goes to open the door and it comes off its hinges when he does. Everyone freezes and looks at him for a second before going back to whatever they were doing. Steve finds him and smiles with a bit of amusement and gently takes Bucky’s death grip off the door handle. Bucky stares after the door like he owes it an apology before Steve leads him gently through the doorway. Bucky stops him before they sit down and says,

“Hey, I’m sorry about your face yesterday.”

“My face? Oh, my face – you…right, yeah. Don’t worry about it. Look, it’s almost gone.” The bruise is fading, thanks to both the ice and his super soldier ability to heal faster than normal. Bucky nods with a small smile and takes a deep breath, starting to say,

“I didn’t mean to - ”

“Steve! Bucky!” Pepper calls, “Pancakes!”

They sit down and notice she’s made more than a few, and rightfully so, seeing as each Avenger will eat at least five.

“Don’t worry about the door,” Tony says after his second pancake. Bucky looks up at him in surprise. “Bruce has done that a couple of times, and Thor’s done it too. Superhuman strength isn’t exactly a new thing here.” Bucky tentatively smiles at him and returns to his pancakes. Pepper approaches Bucky from behind, startling him at first when she says in a low voice,

“What he’s neglected to add is that he’s broken more than a door with his Iron Man suits on multiple occasions. Doors are easy considering Tony once gave a terrorist our home address and the whole house went down.” Bucky smirks and Natasha leans over and joins in the conversation.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it. Tony’s about as innocent of breaking things as Hulk is drunk.”

“Hey, that was one time!” Bruce shouts across the table, although his face gives away that he’s amused. Natasha snorts and Tony snickers at the memory of Hulk stomping around the bar smashing glasses and punching holes in the walls. By the time they left, it looked like Swiss cheese. Needless to say they were not welcome back. Steve appears to have missed out on the experience because he looks amused, but isn’t laughing.

Suddenly, Bucky lets out a raw sound that seems rough and somewhat forced, even though it isn’t. He’s laughing. The easy laugh he used to have sounds as though it was coated in sandpaper and left out to dry. It’s a slightly alarming noise to those who don’t recognize it as a laugh at first, but Steve grins when he realizes that Bucky’s laughing, though inside he’s partially grimacing because it sounds like it hasn’t been let out in many, many years. But he’s thrilled that Bucky’s laughing for the first time time in decades, really laughing, really happy.

The odd sound makes everyone laugh harder, and Thor is pounding the table with his fist, making it shake and shudder. Bucky sounds a bit like a donkey, wheezing in and out to create the result. It gets easier the longer he does it. Soon his stomach hurts from the effort and his cheeks are sore from smiling. It’s a good kind of sore, the kind that he knows is good for him and it means progress.

But then something hits him. He stands up, knocking back his chair and slamming into the wall behind him. Everyone slowly seems to realize something’s wrong, and Steve and Clint stand up quickly, flanking Bucky on either side. Bucky’s holding his head again, pleading with some unknown force.

“Please don’t make me, I can’t, please no, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t…” Steve and Clint steer him out of the room, away from the others where he may be overwhelmed. Natasha follows regardless, as does Sam, who then tells the others to stay behind and finish breakfast. Pepper clears her throat awkwardly and tries to keep everyone else at the table.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” Steve asks, trying to get Bucky to look at him, “Fight it, whatever’s happening, it’s not real!” Bucky hears his voice faintly and suddenly grabs Steve’s arms tightly.

“Steve,” says Bucky with firm recognition. Steve’s hands are shaking, but he nods at Bucky. “Don’t let them…who….don’t let them do this, I can’t…not again.”

“What are they doing?” rasps Steve, trying to keep back frustrated tears. Natasha creeps forward next to Steve and watches Bucky carefully.

“They’re making him forget again,” Natasha says quietly, “It’s a failsafe, I assume. Look at his eyes, Steve, look.” Bucky’s pupils are dilating and contracting continuously, and Steve can see his expression in general is getting more and more blank, no longer scared. Scared Bucky is better than empty Bucky, and the latter is starting to appear again.

“Steve, don’t…I can’t…who…no, YOU CAN’T!” Bucky screams, his fingers digging into Steve’s arms, making him grimace in pain and set his jaw to keep down a whine of pain. “Leave me alone!”

“Fight it, Bucky,” Natasha says suddenly, “Fight it, you can keep them out.”

“Steve…no,” he whimpers, “I don’t…” He lets go of Steve and holds his his hands to his ears.

“Get OUT!” he yells, “Stop it, stop it, stop it, I hate you!” Steve tries to stop Bucky from lashing out with his arms, keeping them pinned to his sides as best he can. Nobody can tell now if Bucky’s yelling at them or at HYDRA.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, get out, get out, get OUT!”

“Bucky…” Steve says, his voice wavering, “Come back.”

“He’s fighting it, Steve,” Natasha says, her voice hopeful, “And he might win.” Steve glances back at her, his expression desperately hopeful. Now she’s scared that Bucky might not win and crush the hope she just gave him.

“I am _not a perfect soldier_!” Bucky cries, his eyes closed, “I will not be _your_ perfect soldier! I don’t want to be perfect anymore!” Steve is crying now, silently letting tears roll down his face as he watches his friend break down. Sam and Clint are standing back, watching Steve and Natasha try to coax Bucky out of his attack. They’re being very careful not to touch him, and Sam frowns when he notices that. He walks around next to Steve and says,

“Steve, try this.” He pushes Steve gently towards his friend and mimics hugging when Steve gives him a confused look.

“I don’t think - ”

“Steve, I’m fairly certain you haven’t hugged that man since 1944. Your voice is one thing he recognizes, but there’s something even more important about the human touch, and in his case, your human touch. He needs to know you’re real. You’ve been dancing around him this whole time because you don’t want to scare him off. He’s probably aching for some kind of affection, and he will probably only take yours.”

“You think a hug will break seventy years of programming?”

“It can’t hurt,” Sam says reasonably. Steve frowns and rubs the remnant of his bruise where Bucky had hit him yesterday for a similar situation. Sam rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and waits for Steve to do something.

Steve stares at him for a minute before he turns back to Bucky and steps forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his best friend. He doesn’t realize how much he’s missed him until now, and Sam is right. It works, for both of them, for the better. Bucky stiffens at first and then slowly, with a realization of what’s happening, returns the hug, curling his fists into the back of Steve’s shirt and burying his head into Steve’s shoulder. Steve melts into his touch, the tension and stress inside him dissolving. They held each other for a solid five minutes before Bucky starts getting heavier, as if he’s no longer in control of his body anymore.

“Hey, Buck,” says Steve confusedly, “You okay?” Bucky’s arms drop to his sides and he almost falls to the ground when Steve catches him under the arms. “Sam?” Sam furrows his brow in confusion and hurries forward to help hold Bucky up. They both take one side and Natasha looks at Bucky curiously.

“He fought the failsafe…” she says thoughtfully, “It may have been an automatic off switch in his head to make sure that if he successfully fought it he couldn’t function long enough to…um, behave.” Steve frowns at that. “Steve, they wouldn’t have seen him as a person anymore, or very few people would have. Weapons don’t behave; weapons just do as the handler does. Bucky behaving in any capacity, good or bad, was still dangerous.”

Steve rolls his eyes and looks at Bucky, who’s hanging limp and unconscious next to him, with concern. He kisses the side of Bucky’s head hard, a gesture that appears both defensive and familiar, and says,

“I’m fine.” He hauls Bucky over to the couch alone, shrugging off Sam’s help impatiently, where he stays and moves Bucky’s hair out of his face while Sam grabs Bruce from the kitchen.


	6. Chapter Six

Bruce kneels in front of Bucky and carefully lifts his eyelids to look at his eyes. Steve watches him, crouched next to Bruce in front of Bucky’s unmoving form on the couch, worrying his lip and getting in the way. Bruce swats at him impatiently a couple of times until Steve agrees to stand up and stand back. _This is my fault…my fault…_ He can’t shake the guilt. It invades every part of him, creating seeds of doubt that Bucky will ever get better. That he’ll stay the way he is now – a lost child with nightmares and strength he can’t seem to control. Everyone is thinking it and Steve’s the only one who’s pretending that it’s not a real option.

“Just unconscious,” Bruce breathes finally, taking his pulse. “He’ll be fine. He may wake up confused or disoriented, but he shouldn’t have forgotten anything and he should be back to normal. Or, well…the way he was earlier, anyway.” Steve lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Nothing worse had happened, at least not so far. He would be okay…he might be okay…maybe. Steve likes to believe in miracles. 

“Thanks Bruce,” Natasha says when Steve doesn’t respond. She lowers her voice and pulls Bruce to the side. “And how’s he gonna be?”

Bruce nods. “He’ll be okay, ‘Tasha. He’s always okay. As long as the kid wakes up, they’ll figure it out.”

“He’s older than you, Bruce. He’s not a kid. Neither is Steve.” They’re both thinking what they won’t say – the oldest two in the room are the least equipped to deal with the twenty-first century. They may as well be kids. Steve’s caught on remarkably quickly considering what he missed, but at the moment Bucky needs to catch up at his own pace. 

Bruce indulges her with a tight smile, but says nothing. Tony decides at that moment to grace them with his presence, suggesting a trip to the lab. Bruce knows he doesn’t mean any harm – the lab is Tony’s rebound place, the first place he’ll think of to fix a problem. He wants to help, but lacks the social graces to recognize that Steve is going to be against that idea. And as he expects…

“No,” says Steve, the first word he’s said in several minutes now. He doesn’t even look up at Tony, his hand resting on his chin as he glances over Bucky as though checking for problems.

“I was just going to say that we could - ”

“No.” Steve narrows his eyes at his friend. “Do you really think that’s a good idea right now? Think about it, Tony.”

Tony shrugs casually as though it isn’t and shouldn’t be a big deal. “Yeah, that’s why I was suggesting it. I was just going to say that we could - ”

“No!” Steve interrupts him again, crossing his arms and stepping in front of Bucky. Tony blunders on regardless:

“ – we could run some tests on him to make sure there aren’t any more fail safes. That would have been a good idea the first time and I didn’t think of it because someone spiked my coffee. I’m serious, Steve, and while we’re at it, we can probably make his arm a little more manageable. I doubt he can feel anything in it, and I might be able to help with that.”

Steve stares at him, his lips frowning, but his eyes considerate. He looks down at Bucky and then back at Tony.  “Not until he wakes up. And he’s going to give the yes or no; this is _his_ decision. And I swear to God, Tony, if you step out of line, once, just once - ”

“You’ll…what? Kill me?” Tony gives him a superior smirk, silencing Steve. The conversation is going down the drain with Tony’s taunts and everyone knows it. Steve won’t back down when it comes to Bucky. That much is immediately clear.

“I might,” Natasha pipes up, quirking an eyebrow at Tony, “But seriously, Tony, don’t do anything funny. You saw how it screwed him up last time.” She glances in Steve’s direction, who gives her a small appreciative nod.

“Mhm,” Tony hums in agreement, “Just hope Humpty Dumpty can handle being taken apart and put back together again.” Steve opens his mouth to protest when Clint beats him to it:

“What’s your problem, Stark?” Clint asks, still hovering near Natasha. Steve is slightly taken aback by Clint’s tone. Usually Clint is fairly quiet and he only sticks up for Natasha. He sounds personally offended by Tony’s assault on Bucky, and he is. In the few weeks he’s known him, Clint and a few of the others, Natasha and Sam included, became incredibly protective of him, despite his past. How could they not?

“I don’t understand the question,” says Tony, looking rather bored. “I don’t have a problem. I literally just asked if you guys wanted me to help your assassin, not fry him for dinner.”

“He’s not “my assassin”. If there’s a problem with him being here, just say something,” Steve says, taking a step towards Tony.

“Yeah, good point, Steve, he’s _everyone’s_ assassin and we’d all be dead by now if you hadn’t heroically stopped him.” Steve freezes, the air sucked out of his lungs as though Tony had just punched him. Clint, Natasha, and Sam notice it immediately. Natasha and Sam know enough that it’s no longer their fight and they have to let Steve and Tony hash it out, but Clint on the other hand…

“What the hell is your - ” Clint starts, stepping in Tony’s direction before Steve stops him with a hand. Natasha nods and catches Clint’s shoulder, pulling him back slowly to let Steve move in front of him. Clint watches him carefully, furious with Tony and slightly annoyed with Steve that he won’t let him help.

“Steve’s fight, not yours,” she murmurs in his ear, watching Steve step forward with clenched fists. He sighs and lets out a breath before turning and leaving the room. Natasha nods at Sam once indicating that it might be best if he leaves too. Sam agrees, though he wishes Steve didn’t have to fight this by himself.

“What the hell _is_ your problem, Tony? What if it was Pepper? Or Rhodes? Would you be so blind to the real problem then?” Steve growls. His annoyance with Tony is only the tip of the iceberg of frustration and pent up anger at everyone involved in denying Bucky fifty years of his life. He’s not mad at Tony, per se, more than he’s concentrating his anger at him now because he can. Bottling up emotions is always something he’s been good at – putting on a brave face for the sake of everyone else. And now that he needs something from someone else for once, Tony’s letting him down – or perhaps a more apt description would be that he’s shoving him down.

“Do enlighten me, oh Captain my Captain,” Tony sneers derisively, “What _is_ the real problem here?”

“HYDRA,” Steve hisses through gritted teeth, “Not Bucky.” 

“HYDRA’s gone and I’ve still got a crazy ass lunatic who can kill a man with his pinky on my couch!”

“Is that really what you think of him? Is that all, Tony? He’s my best friend and I will not give up on him because suddenly you don’t like him. You _offered_ to have him here. You knew what that entailed, as I’m sure Natasha and Sam filled you in. Or was that just an excuse to get your science hands all over him to experiment?” Steve fumes, “We’re supposed to be friends, not temporary allies. We’re a team, or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten anything, grandpa,” Tony replies. “Terminator’s not part of the team.” Steve sucks in a breath to clear his head. He turns away from Tony for a minute, no longer able to look him in the face.

 “He’s my friend,” Steve says softly, “And if he weren’t…in trouble right now, he would officially be part of the team.” He meets Tony’s gaze finally as he adds, “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” Tony deliberately ignores his last comment, presumably because he knows what he’s saying is cruel, and continues thoughtlessly,

“Yes, I think your brainwashed, half-starved, angry insomniac with - ”

“Tony!” Pepper cries upon hearing the conversation and walking into the room. “Stop it!”

“-hormonal imbalance and the self-control of a five year old boyfriend would be a wonderful addition to the Avengers. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? It’s brilliant, Steve!”

“ _Tony Stark_ ,” Pepper says furiously. He doesn’t look at her, his eyes still challenging Steve. In an instance of meanness, Steve shoots back,

“I recall telling you one time that I knew guys with none of what you claimed to have who are worth ten of you. Guess who I was talking about, genius. I don’t need your approval. I will _always_ need him. We’ll be out of your gold-tinted way by tonight. Consider me on a break from the Avengers…for however long it takes.” He glares at Tony for a moment longer before turning tersely and leaning over to lift Bucky over his shoulders and carry him upstairs and away from the drama. He doesn’t get a chance to because Tony, in a fit of childish upset, throws the napkin he was holding at Steve and mutters,

“Newbie...”

Steve pauses, his jaw tightening, before turning around and socking Tony in the face. Pepper tsks with disapproval and grabs Thor from another room to help. Steve tackles Tony to the ground and starts hitting him, though he tries to pull his punches because he knows deep down that hitting him isn’t solving anything. Tony scowls at him and summons an Iron Man fist from his laboratory. It takes a few seconds to arrive, and when it does, he blasts Steve away from him. Steve runs at him again and they both wrestle for control of the Iron Man hand before Thor pulls them apart easily. Steve manages to get one last kick in to the groin for Tony, who promptly groans and curses under his breath. Thor has them both by the back of their shirts, holding them up and apart like kittens. Steve spits out a string of Bucky’s choice curse words, to which Tony responds,

“Ooh, careful there, old man. Wouldn’t want your mommy to have to wash your mouth out with soap.”

Steve scowls at him, but knows when to stop fighting. If Tony’s been reduced to a ‘mommy’ joke, he’s been defeated. Tony is sporting a broken nose, a dislocated shoulder, and likely a broken rib or two, where Steve has a black eye, a nasty welt to his forehead where the Iron Man suit hit him, and likely some bruises that will show up later. Thor gives Steve a hard look, as if to say ‘You know better’. Steve stops panting and forcibly relaxes himself. Then Thor looks at Tony and looks as though he’s about to say something when he gets hit in the back of the head with something that sounds suspiciously like metal.

“Hey!” Thor yells, turning around angrily and finding the culprit to be Bucky, fists clenched and jaw set stubbornly. 


	7. Chapter Seven

“Put him down,” Bucky demands, pointing at Steve. Steve almost says something when Thor scowls at Bucky, dropping Steve, and then makes a fist with his hand and hits Bucky hard on the head, and Bucky crumples like a puppet with cut strings.

“Foolish mortal,” he mutters. Steve scrambles to make sure Thor hasn’t broken Bucky’s neck, and he hasn’t (kudos to Thor), when Thor says, “Relax, Steve, I’ve hit many of you harder than that and you have awoken without much issue.”

“Why did you hit him?” Steve asks indignantly.

“He hit me,” Thor shrugs, “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s…does the word ‘unstable’ mean anything to you guys anymore?” Steve asks halfheartedly. Thor ignores him and goes back to what he was doing.

“I heard the dispute,” Thor says simply, putting Tony down gently, “You would do well to respect Steve’s friend, Stark. And Steve, you would do well to contain your anger. You should not be fighting. Do you not remember when you stopped Stark and I from a petty argument? I have learned from that, and you should have, too.”

Steve says nothing, wiping his bloody lip, while Tony simply raises an eyebrow at Thor bitterly and says,

“That’s pretty bold coming from a man who fought a war against his brother.”

“Tony, do us all a favor and stop talking,” Pepper says, though she’s gentle in saying it. She helps him up and walks him to the kitchen to clean him up while he milks his bruised leg by limping heavily along next to her. Steve gives Thor a grateful look and says quietly,

“Thanks for stopping me. I don’t know how badly I would have hurt him. I don’t want to hurt him, I just….” The frustration isn’t quite gone from Steve’s mind, but the anger and annoyance have lessened significantly. Exasperation has taken their place for now.

“He’s frustrating,” Thor nods, “I understand. And he’s right, I’ve had my fair share of conflicts.”

“We all have,” Steve says reasonably, “I just wish he knew how to time is unsavory comments.”

“I agree,” Thor smirks. “Did you want help moving your friend?”   

“Nah,” Steve says, grunting as he throws Bucky over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “I got it. Thanks again.”

“Of course,” Thor says, “See you for lunch today?”

“Ha-ha,” Steve says sarcastically, “Maybe.”

~

When Steve gets back to his floor, he lays Bucky carefully on top of the bed and then goes into the bathroom to clean up. The welt on his forehead’s going to stay ugly for a while, and at the moment it’s alternating between shades of dark blue and violet. The rest of him isn’t so bad. His right eye is slightly inflamed and remains a steady shade of light green, while some bruises on his legs are getting darker. He almost laughs when he thinks about looking something like a rainbow. He dabs at his forehead before glancing back out the bathroom door to make sure Bucky hasn’t moved.

“Steve?” Natasha knocks on his bedroom door, “Steve? Steve Rogers, open this door or we’re knocking it down!”

“Who’s we?” Steve asks. He unlocks the door and Natasha and Clint stumble in. Not that he’s surprised to see them.

“We,” Natasha says cheerfully, “How is he?” She gestures at Bucky, who’s still out cold.  

“Fine. I don’t know. Sleeping. He actually woke up once Thor got involved and Thor whacked him and put him back down. Not sure how much Bucky’s gonna like him after that.” Steve smirks at her, though it feels forced. He hates forcing smiles.

Natasha snorts. “Helpful. Clint, tell him what we did.”

“Told Tony to fuck off, for one thing,” he grumbles.

“No, the other thing.”

“I flipped him off?”

“No, not that…”

“I put itching powder in his boxer drawer?”

“You did WHAT?” Natasha asks, crossing her arms at Clint. He shrugs and Steve tries not to smile. Natasha rolls her eyes and says, “You’re so immature. Anyway, no, what we were trying to tell you is that we got Bruce to agree to fix Bucky’s arm when he wakes up, without Tony getting involved. Which Tony is really pissed about, but at this point, he kind of deserves it. Plus, Bruce may be able to make sure Bucky hasn’t got any other triggers or whatever like what happened today. And, ah, I brought you lunch.” She hands Steve three grilled cheese sandwiches on a plate and winks. “Save one for him. He’ll want it.”

“Yeah, right,” Steve says, “Thanks guys. I really appreciate it.”

“And if you get the chance, ah, cognitive re-calibration may not be a bad idea,” Natasha mentions. She glances at Clint, who suddenly looks slightly annoyed.

“How would you suggest I do that…?” Steve asks, looking back and forth between them.

“She’s saying if you hit him really hard on the head, like smack it into a bar or something, he may just suddenly realize who he is,” Clint says with an annoyed look at Natasha, “It worked on me, but then, I wasn’t really out for that long.” Steve lifts an eyebrow at Natasha.

“I seriously doubt that would fix seventy years of brain damage, Natasha. Besides, Thor’s probably already taken care of that for me,” he tells her. She shrugs.

“Worth a try.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Not sure he would appreciate it, especially if it doesn’t work.”

“Fair point.”

 

“Mm. I might explore the floor when Bucky wakes up. I haven’t really had a chance to look and I want to see it before I go. Pepper and Tony probably worked pretty hard on rebuilding this place after…Loki happened.”

“Sounds good,” Natasha says, “Come down for dinner, though, okay? Don’t stay up here all night. And don’t leave. Tony’s a bitch, but he doesn’t really mean any of it. He’s an attention whore, you know that.” _No kidding…_ Steve thinks to himself. He makes himself smile at her.

“I know. I don’t really have anywhere to go except back to the apartment, and you saw how well that was going. It’s better for him here.” Steve sighs. “Whether I like it or not, I may have to stay. If Tony lets me after what just happened.”

“He’ll let you,” Clint says, “He has to. Besides, we’re all friends here and he knows it. He’s just being a dick.”

“Mhm.” Natasha ushers Clint out of the room, recognizing when Steve starts zoning out and focusing on his thoughts rather than the people around him. It’s something she started to see when they found out Bucky was the Winter Soldier. He retreated a lot into his mind and sometimes he wouldn’t pay attention to what he was doing in reality. The worst time she can remember was when he was pouring coffee for himself at Sam’s place and he kept pouring until it was all over the counter and dripping onto the floor. Only when Natasha put her face in front of his to get his attention did he “wake up” and realize what was going on. Today it’s best to leave him alone with his thoughts, maybe straighten them out and cool some tension beneath the hood (tension he obviously still haves in spite of hitting out at Tony).

~

I REMEMBER.


	8. Chapter Eight

_The beautiful stench of Brooklyn, the slow savoring of ice cream he could only taste once or twice a year, a hand to hold when sickness clogged the air, waking up with a different family he never knew he needed until his own was gone, joining the army, discouraging Steve from joining the army, getting captured, getting shot at, getting rescued by Captain America, falling off a train, not being dead, crying for Steve when he thought they couldn’t hear him, getting beaten, getting wiped, being cold, always cold, giving up on Steve, finding him again, being filled with anger and hate for everyone and everything around him and then_ …nothing.

Despite the rush of ninety-six years jamming itself back into his brain, Bucky wakes up slowly, first blinking his eyes open as though waking from a pleasant dream and an undisturbed seven hours of sleep. _I broke the programming_. He shakes his head to let it settle, looking around the room for Steve. _Where am I?_ Avengers Tower, that’s right. He remembers now. With Sam and Natasha and Clint and Bruce and Thor and Pepper and Tony and…

“Steve,” Bucky breathes, his bright blue eyes finding Steve’s, who is standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at one corner of the bed, deep in thought. When Bucky stirs, Steve’s eyes move to his and a small, though charming smile graces his features, and his eyes crinkle at the sides. _Does he know?_ Bucky ponders briefly. _Does he know that I remember?_

_No. But he will._

“I know I, ah, said we were going to the future,” he starts, and Steve’s eyebrows travel further up his forehead, “But I didn’t exactly have this in mind.” Steve’s small smirk turns into a wide grin. Bucky sits up, his head spinning as he does, and before he gets a chance to complain, Steve’s holding him, pulling him closer into possibly the most suffocating hug he’s ever had.

“I thought you were never coming back,” Steve whispers, burying his head into the crook of Bucky’s neck. “I thought you were gone for good.”

“I was never completely gone,” Bucky replies, hugging Steve back with the same fierceness. “I was always there, with you, in here.” He pulls his metal hand back from the hug to poke Steve in the chest where his heart is. “Always here. Just like you were always there for me, keeping my heart going when I wished to God it would just stop.”

“Don’t say that,” Steve says, closing his eyes and feeling a tear fall down his cheek. “If you ever let that damn thing stop beating, I will kill you personally.”

“Well, wouldn’t that kill me first?” Bucky jokes, his broken chuckle escaping his lips. Steve makes a noise that sounds halfway between a laugh and a sob. He pulls back and looks at Bucky, really looks at him as though to make sure he’s real, and says in a low voice,

“No, because I would resuscitate you and _then_ I would kill you. You don’t get off that easy, Buck.” Bucky snorts.

“Figures.” Steve’s still holding on to Bucky’s shoulders, satisfied to see the light back in Bucky’s eyes. There’s still darkness there, but something real and alive is there as well. _Bucky_ is there.

“I missed you,” Steve says, a stupid grin still plastered on his face.

“Yeah,” Bucky shrugs, “You too.” He smirks at Steve and looks down at his hands. “Now where can I find Thor so I can hit him in his stupidly happy face?”

“Why would you want to do that?” Steve frowns. Bucky twirls a piece of his own brown hair in his face and then points to the top of his head.

“I’d like to return the favor.” The bump on Bucky’s head is small and it’s already healing, so there’s no need. Besides, Steve knows that if Bucky hits Thor back, or attempts to, he will lose.

“You shouldn’t,” Steve counters, “Let it go. Besides, he may be the reason you can remember. Cognitive re-calibration or something…”

“Cognitive what?”

“Nothing, just something Natasha mentioned.” Steve smirks at him. “He hit you really hard on the head.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Bucky grumbles. “And jeez, you got a mouth on you, kid. I heard what you called Tony Stark.” Steve shrugs and looks down at the floor, blushing.

“I learned how to swear from you,” he says, “‘S your fault.”

“Bull. Shit.” Bucky grins again. “You did _not_ learn how to swear from me.”

Steve laughs, standing up from sitting on the edge of the bed. He offers a hand to Bucky, who takes it gladly. Then Steve walks over to the closet, opens the door, and starts picking through shirts. He takes off his own shirt and lets it fall on the floor, and calls to Bucky,

“Hey, you wanna change? You’ve probably been in those clothes for two straight days, and so have I. Here, try this.” He throws a dark blue t-shirt at Bucky, who stares at it dumbly for a second.

“Steve…” he says hesitantly, waiting until Steve turns around to look at him. “Who cares?” He picks subconsciously at the barely visible seam holding his metal arm to his body, and then quickly puts his hand down when he realizes what he’s doing. Steve doesn’t seem to notice.

“We’re not wearing tank tops to the dinner table.”

“No one cares!”

“I do and you should. Hurry up, Natasha’s gonna drag us out by our ears if we miss dinner…”

“Ugh,” Bucky grumbles. He waits until Steve’s turned around to take off his top quickly and he tries to pull the new one on just as fast. Sure enough, the metal arm is amazing, but it fails to maneuver quickly enough at the correct awkward angle to get his arm through the sleeve and he gets stuck. “God _dammit_ …”

Steve is still rifling through the closet for an appropriate t-shirt and hears Bucky swear behind him. When he turns around again, Bucky’s left arm is stuck in an uncomfortable angle above his head, and his other arm is hanging through the sleeve, but is pulled up to ear level. Steve sighs like he’s impatient, but his lips twitching into an amused smile reveal otherwise. He starts trying to pull the shirt down over Bucky’s elbow joint, and when he does, he sees scores of scars across Bucky’s back. Knife scars, bullet scars, whip marks, claw marks…they’re all there in a macabre pattern. Some are self-inflicted, but Steve doesn’t need to know that. The only scar Steve remembers being there is one knife scar from a bigger kid in Brooklyn who tried to beat Steve up (nothing out of the ordinary there) and pulled a knife on Bucky when he tried to stop him. He tries and fails to conceal the sharp intake of breath he takes when he sees the marks, making Bucky sigh. Steve’s eyes travel to the scar along Bucky’s shoulder blade, attaching the metal arm to his skin. It’s thick and messy and it takes all of Steve’s self-control not to touch it out of pure curiosity. It’s obviously a point of embarrassment for Bucky.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Bucky finally asks, breaking the silence. Steve’s not quite sure what to say. It’s not ugly, none of it is, not to him. It’s just…Bucky.

“Yeah,” Steve says simply, “It’s beautiful. You want to know why?” He pulls Bucky’s left arm up straight and lowers the t-shirt down over the scars, and the metal arm slowly falls by Bucky’s side. “Because you survived each and every one and you didn’t lose yourself. Not in the end. Not when it mattered.” As he lowers the t-shirt in the front, he lets his finger linger for a moment on the seam between metal and Bucky. Then he lets Bucky pull the shirt all the way down. Steve meets his eyes evenly, and it’s all Bucky can do not to look away. “You are _not_ to be ashamed of those. I mean it, Buck. Never. They are a part of you now, but they don’t…they don’t define you.”

Bucky stares at him, looking like he wants to do something, but is holding himself back. He won’t do it, or say whatever he wants to say. He can’t. He settles on a quiet, “Very eloquent. Thanks, Steve.” He’s grateful, truly grateful for Steve’s handling of the situation, per usual, but he can see that the scars have upset him regardless. He believes Steve was genuine in what he said about them, but it doesn’t stop Steve from being angry at the men who put them there. Steve’s hands are clenching at unclenching as he silently looks through the closet again. Then he calms for a minute and turns to Bucky.

“Look, here.” Steve points to a scar running from the nape of Steve’s neck his shoulder  blade that Bucky hadn’t noticed before. It was thin and healing, but it was still an angry red. “Got that from New York. We’ve all got scars, Buck. You more than most, but we’ve all got ‘em.”

“Yeah, Natasha’s got one from me,” Bucky grumbles, breaking eye contact with Steve.

“I’m sure Natasha has more than one from several sources,” Steve says reasonably, “And she’s over it. She doesn’t hold anything against you for it, you know that.”

 _Knock, knock, knock_.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and don't forget to kudos or comment if you like it! :)

The two look at the door, and Steve narrows his eyes at it. It doesn’t sound like Natasha’s knock.

“Cap? Are you in there?”

Tony Stark.

“No,” Steve says, at first. Then he sighs and opens the door anyway. “Can I help you?” He crosses his arms aggressively and blocks Bucky and the rest of the room from view.

“Can we talk for a second?” Tony asks, his eyes glancing nervously over Steve’s shoulder at Bucky.

“Why?”

“I wanted to talk about earlier and – am I interrupting something?” Bucky walks up behind Steve as Tony was talking and evidently surprised him. Not to mention Steve’s still not wearing a shirt. Neither of them really picks up on what it looks like to Tony, but Tony doesn’t press the issue. Instead, Bucky gives Tony a withering look and says,

“Hi, fuck you, see you later, Stark.” He pushes Steve out of the way and closes the door in Tony’s face.

“Bucky!” Steve protests, trying to move Bucky away from the door. “What the hell was that?”

Bucky scratches the back of his head and if Steve didn’t know better, he’d say he looked slightly ashamed of himself. “Saving you the trouble. I know you don’t want to talk to him.”

“You can’t…Tony, I’ll talk to you in a minute, just gimme a second here.” Bucky snorts and grabs a white shirt from the closet with the American flag on it, throwing it at Steve’s bare torso.

“Put a shirt on, Rogers. Everyone here already knows you’re pretty.” Steve takes the shirt begrudgingly, mumbling something about just because he’s Captain America doesn’t mean he has to wear the flag all the time. Then, as Bucky steps away from the door, Steve takes the opportunity to grab the door handle and swing the door open, putting his other hand out to push Bucky playfully out of the way.

“Sorry,” Steve says, leaning on the doorframe to block Bucky out. “What were you apologizing?” Tony lifts and eyebrow and leans against the opposite wall. Then he gives a dramatic eye roll with a sigh and says,

“Five minutes. Can you leave Terminator for five minutes to talk to me?” Steve bristles at the nickname and starts to growl,

“Don’t call him that…” But Bucky runs over him with words of his own:

“Anything you have to say to Steve you have to say to me.” His tone is defensive, and Bucky crosses his arms across his chest as though the matter is finished.  

“Why, what are you, Siamese twins?” Tony scoffs, “I don’t need to answer to you.” Despite his front, Tony’s eye twitches nervously and he can’t seem to look Bucky in the eye.

“He’s fine, Buck,” Steve says, “I’ll be right back.” Bucky scowls and shuts the door behind them.

“He’s being weird,” Tony says, crinkling his nose. Steve rolls his eyes.

“He’s always been weird. What do you want?”

“He can’t hear us. We have to walk away.”

“Why?”

“Capsicle, you really want to hear what I have to say.” Steve follows Tony in silence until they get to the kitchen on Steve’s floor, which is several rooms away from Bucky. Tony takes a deep breath and says,

“Look. I’m sorry for being a dick, I just…” Steve snorts and interrupts him. “What?”

“I’m just curious to hear your excuse. It was totally out of line, Tony.”

“Don’t lecture me, you’re not my grandfather.”

“I could be.”

“Let me finish,” Tony says. Steve sees he’s serious, so he nods with a small ‘sorry..’. “I did some digging on Bucky’s file and - ”

“You shouldn’t have even had access to that!” Steve says, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“My hands slipped, I’m a genius with a supercomputer, what can I say? Anyway, I found out…well, his file has a list of targets. I’m assuming you read it.”

“No,” says Steve, furrowing his brow, “I didn’t want to know. That was the only thing I didn’t touch. Why?”

Tony swallows, pausing for a second as though putting the words together carefully.

“He killed my parents.” Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair with agitation, as though trying not to lose it. “He killed them and…I was seventeen, Steve. An orphan. At seventeen. They were high profile SHIELD members, and they were deeply entrenched politically, too. They were the perfect targets. And he personally took them out.”

“I thought your parents died in a car accident.”

“They did,” Tony says shortly, “ _His_ car ‘accident’.”

“Tony, I’m sorry, I didn’t…I didn’t know.” Tony waves it away dismissively. “I knew your dad. He was a good man. Bucky…he didn’t really know him all that well, but they got along.”

“Yeah, and I know it’s not technically his fault.”

“It’s not,” Steve says firmly, “You can’t blame him for this.”

“It’s hard not to, okay?” Tony replies, his voice rising in pitch, “I’m trying. I’m trying really hard not to. But I look at him every day, look at his hands, that damn metal arm and think to myself ‘That arm cut the brake lines’ or ‘That arm steered the truck that killed my parents’. And then I think about what the exhibit says about him, dying for you and all that…sometimes I almost wish he had died.”

Steve’s expression hardens and he doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? He doesn’t wish Bucky died on that train, not in a million years, but he also wishes Howard and Maria Stark weren’t dead because of him. If Bucky had died, he wouldn’t have been in perpetual pain for almost seventy years.

“That’s a terrible thing to say. I don’t,” Steve says finally, “I don’t wish he died. He’s all I have.” Tony frowns at him.

“You have _us_ , dumbass,” Tony scoffs. Steve shakes his head.

“That’s not what I meant, and you don’t understand. He’s all I have left of my old life. He reminds me every day of who I am, and without him, I feel like I’m losing it again. Even when I had nothing, I had him. He will _always_ stay by my side and I believe in him. He didn’t want them dead, Tony. HYDRA did.”

“Remind me again who fought with you in New York against Loki? Was it Bucky? Oh, wait, no, it was me. And Natasha and Clint and Bruce and Thor. Or have you forgotten all of that and all of us? Where was Barnes? The 40s is over, Rogers. It’s time for you to start living in the present. Wake up for real this time.”

“And here I thought we were trying to be friends again,” Steve says with a cynical smile, “I’m sorry for not blaming my best friend for problems he didn’t want.”

“Well, now he has them,” Tony growls, “Watch yourself.” He shoves past Steve and almost gets to the door when Steve stops him.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Not threatening, Cap. I don’t have to. I’m just warning you to keep both eyes on that sonofabitch. He may be your friend, but he’s still armed and dangerous.” Steve’s jaw tightens at the inappropriate pun. “All I’m saying is to watch your back, because one day you might wake up and we’re all you have left anymore.” With that, in Tony’s usual dramatic flair, he storms out of the room, leaving Cap alone with his thoughts until he decides ‘screw Tony and get back to talking to someone who really deserves your attention’.

When he gets back, Bucky’s changed into a tight black tank top and grey sweatpants. His hair is still tied back in that ponytail, and he’s looking at his metal arm like it’s new to him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and he stands up happily when Steve walks in.

“That looks like it went well,” says Bucky sarcastically. Steve gives him a small smile.

“We’re working on it,” he replies, “How are you?”

“Better.”

“You sound better. More…like yourself.”

Bucky smirks, “That’s rude.”

“It’s not!” Steve splutters, “I’m being honest!” He grins at Bucky and continues, “Glad to have you back. I can’t believe it.” Bucky shrugs and quirks an eyebrow.

 “It’s pretty cool. I remember _everything_. It’s weird to think I could forget all of that, or at least not see it _._ ” Steve’s smile falters a bit.

“Everything?” Bucky nods and bites his lip.

“Mhm.” Steve’s mind flies to Bucky’s torture with HYDRA, does he remember that? Or even worse, does he remember killing people? Does he remember killing Howard Stark? Bucky’s giving him a weird look now, and he steps forward and pulls Steve into his arms.

“All the bad stuff, with all the good,” he says quietly, as though reading Steve’s mind. “I’m _sorry_ for not being there for you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Steve whines into Bucky’s shoulder, “I should have….done something; I should have saved you. It should have been me in your place.” Bucky laughs bitterly and pulls away to look at Steve.

“And where would the world be without Captain America, you idiot?”

“Hey, that’s my word…” Steve says sheepishly, “You’re the idiot, not me.”

“And you’re still a punk,” Bucky says, resting his forehead on Steve’s, “I missed you.”

“Me too,” Steve says, a tear sliding down his cheek, “I hated the world without Bucky Barnes.”

“Who’s that?” Bucky jokes, a sly grin on his face. Steve gives him a look and Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Too soon?”

“Too soon.”

“Yeah, I know. How long was I out, anyway?”

“Just this afternoon,” Steve says after a second, looking at Bucky uncertainly, “I’m sure Natasha’s coming in a few minutes to drag us out to dinner.”

“Mhm,” Bucky repeats, “Did she used to work for the KGB? She looks really familiar.”

“Well, she did try to kill you,” Steve jokes. Bucky tsks and starts towards the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I hear Natasha coming,” he says simply.

“You…what?!” Steve couldn’t hear Natasha walking if he tried. She walks soundlessly on purpose just to scare people when she comes up behind them. Sometimes unintentionally. He opens the door and sure enough, Natasha’s standing there, fist raised about to knock.

“Hello boys,” she grins, “Nice to see you awake for once, sunshine.”

“Thanks,” Bucky mutters.

“He remembers,” Steve tells her, “No additional cognitive re-calibration necessary.”

“Good,” Natasha breathes, “That would have been annoying to explain.” If Bucky’s at all confused by the conversation, he doesn’t show it.


	10. Chapter 10

Bucky almost seems back to normal by that evening. He’s making jokes, poking fun at Steve, no doubt plotting mischief with Clint and Natasha. Tony isn’t at the table, though Pepper is, and Steve knows why. Bucky can guess that the conversation earlier definitely didn’t go well and Tony either is smart enough to stay away for a bit, or he doesn’t want to have to look Steve or Bucky in the eye. He guesses it’s a mixture of both. He doesn’t really care either way – Tony is the only one here he doesn’t trust, so good riddance.

Unfortunately after dinner, reality starts to set in. Bucky starts to realize what it really means to have lost seventy years of life. One war ended and another few started and ended. Everyone he knows is dead, besides Steve and Peggy. Technology has advanced beyond his wildest dreams, although Howard Stark evidently never did get to finish his flying car. 

_That’s your fault, remember?_

Bucky shakes his head. _Not my fault. HYDRA’s fault. That’s what Steve says, and I know it’s true. It wasn’t…me._

 _Ahh, but you remember it in vivid detail, don’t you, Bucky?_ The angry little voice inside him, the Winter Soldier, is still there, no longer dominant, but still lurking just beneath the surface, just waiting for Bucky to make a mistake. And he hates it.

 _Get out of my head_ he growls, _I didn’t kill him, HYDRA did. I liked Howard Stark._

 _Liked him enough to cut his brake lines_ the voice laughs. _Did you watch, Bucky? You did. You watched from a rooftop as the Starks’ car slammed into a truck. They died instantly and you reported back, happy as can be, practically skipping, because you managed to kill a founder of SHIELD. You didn’t like him. You destroyed him._ Bucky feels nauseous all of a sudden and stands up quickly, interrupting the conversation abruptly.

“Feel sick…be right back,” he mumbles before making a beeline to the bathroom. Everyone steals quick glances at Steve, who’s watching Bucky like a hawk as he stumbles away. Steve looks back down at the hot cocoa Pepper had given everyone after dinner as a treat and takes a deep breath and pretends that maybe…just maybe he believes that Bucky is just feeling a little sick and it’s not at all related to the bigger issue. _Bucky can take care of himself…he’s back, he knows which way is up. He doesn’t need you to point him in the right direction anymore, Steve._ The day that Steve really believes that he and Bucky don’t need each other is the day Steve believes the world is in a better place than it was in 1944.

Nevertheless, he tries to let Bucky sort out his own issues and continues his conversation with Jane about her hunch on time travel. It distracts him, at least, and he doesn’t believe it can be done anyway, so he entertains the conversation. That would be perfect, wouldn’t it? Travelling back to the forties, not letting Bucky fall from that train or, if he still falls, looking for him afterwards and saving him. Growing old together, just Steve and Bucky against the rest of the world, the way they always thought it would turn out. They’d probably live to where they are now, except physically seventy years older and laying in adjoining rest home beds, still teasing each other about girls and the like. _But what about the others? What about Natasha and Clint and Bruce and Thor and…Tony? They’re your friends, too._ Steve sighs in the middle of Jane’s sentence by accident and she freezes, looking slightly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, Steve, if you didn’t want to hear about it you just had to say something…”

“No, no, sorry, I’m just...We old people get tired. Sorry. It’s really fascinating, the work that you’re doing.” Steve inwardly sighs at the fact that he’s just made a senior joke. It’s beneath him, but at this point, he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. He is old, and more tired than he’d like to admit at the moment. But he has a feeling he won’t sleep well for a while.

~

Bucky locks the door behind him, leaning heavily on the sink. He can taste the threat of a returning dinner and he really, really doesn’t want to get sick. Not right now. Not here. He is doing _so_ much better. Today’s already been rough enough, why make it worse?

_Worse for whom? Yourself or Steve? You don’t deserve to have a peaceful day ever again. Not after what you did._

_Please shut up. I’m concentrating._

_You liked it, Bucky. All of it. The thrill of hitting a target, the wind rushing through your hair on a chase, the majestic explosions that ended careers and lives. You shaped the century, you idiot. Try harder to pretend you’re not proud of that._

_I’m not proud of it! I had no choice. I didn’t want this…any of this…_

_Warm blood soaking your hands on your first mission, the one you nearly botched, the one you had to get too close and you ripped his throat out. And then you liked it._

Bucky remembers that mission all too well. He’d missed his shot and the man started running, so he had to go after him. His handlers had tested him by giving him only one bullet, to see how he would react if he missed. He cornered the man in an alleyway, blocking the only exit. He remembers the pleading, the crying, the sniveling, the begging for mercy, the ‘please I have a wife and children’ appeal (which was true), etc. etc. And all he’d felt, all he remembers feeling, is satisfaction. He’d won. And then the man had pulled a knife on him unexpectedly, stabbed Bucky in the gut, at which point Bucky became enraged and tore his throat out with his metal arm. And instead of just satisfaction, he felt some sort of fascination at the adrenaline rush and feeling the evidence of death in the palms of his hands. He remembers liking it and that by itself is enough to make him sick.

He finally makes himself look up at the mirror, at himself. Something he’s easily avoided since he showed up on Steve’s doorstep almost a year ago. Covered it with a towel, didn’t look, didn’t make it part of his routine. Why would he? He wouldn’t recognize himself. And he’s right – now gazing into his own blue eyes, he sees a broken, defeated man with mangy long hair, dark circles around his eyes, and starting to grow a little more stubble than he’s comfortable with.

 _Sickening, isn’t it?_ the Winter Soldier hisses.

 _Shut up._ He hears a quiet rat-tat-tat on the bathroom door and Pepper’s voice asks,

“Bucky? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says heavily, using a good amount of restraint not to scream or throw up when he opens his mouth.

“O-okay, just let me know if you need anything. I’m here for you.” She sounds so kind. Like a mother. Like his mother. Or maybe more like Steve’s mother – practically adoptive and as fiercely protective to him as to any of her other children. Pepper seems to have decided (in Bucky’s opinion, and he’s not wrong) that he is something of a mission for her. Someone to take under her wing, to treat kindly and hope that in return she can coax the kindness out of him, out of the dark recesses of his person where HYDRA stuffed them a long time ago.

“Thanks,” Bucky says quickly. He looks away from the mirror and finds himself drawn back to it.

_Who can love that broken face? Steve? Natasha? You’re beyond saving, Bucky. You’re beyond redemption and everyone knows it but no one wants to be the one to say it._

_I said shut up. I’m not asking anyone to stay._

_They stay out of pity, you idiot. Pity for a man lost seventy years ago when he died falling off a train in the Alps._ Now the voice seems to be coming from Bucky’s reflection. His reflection’s mouth is moving, but his isn’t.

“Stop that,” he says quietly to the mirror, “Stop that right now. You can’t do that.” Mirror Bucky’s lips twist into a cruel smile.

“I control you,” it says, “You’re weak. That’s why I’ll always win – because you can never keep me out. Not for you, not for Steve, not for anyone.”

“You don’t control me,” Bucky snarls, “I control me.”

“But I am you,” it replies simply, “Don’t you see? You can never escape the inevitable truth that you can’t run from yourself. You were never that good at it. You always gave into your darker impulses, Bucky, even as a child. Why do you think you became what you did when they gave you the serum?”

Bucky frowns, his mouth slightly ajar in surprise. “I didn’t…I didn’t get the serum. Only Steve got the serum.”

“Don’t be stupid,” it laughs, “They gave you the serum when they captured the 107th. That’s how you survived the fall. That’s how you became the Winter Soldier. They only had to wipe your mind and you became a ruthless killing machine. Fighting it now is only making it harder for yourself. Give in, Bucky. You will always lose.”

“No, I won’t,” Bucky says, his voice wobbling, “I can’t. No. I can’t do that…if nothing else, I can’t do that to Steve.”

“Steve Rogers is looking for excuses to dump your sorry ass out on the street,” it hisses furiously, “He’ll never love you! He loves the man he lost in the Alps and he knows he’ll _never get him back_.” Bucky hears knocking on the door again.

“Just a minute, Pepper!” he shouts. He glares at the mirror and it shifts to show him an image of where he was a year ago, the black muzzle covering his nose and mouth, throwing a shield back at Steve.

_You’re a monster, Bucky Barnes. And you will always be a monster. You can’t fight your true nature, and this is your true nature._


	11. Chapter 11

Bucky screams in defiance and punches the mirror, breaking it instantly, but the way he sees it, he’s barely made a dent. So he continues to punch it with alternating fists, making his right hand bleed and his left hand creak from the glass stuck in the joints. The knocking on the door gets louder and Bucky ignores it.

“Let me in! I’m sorry for being a douchebag earlier, but you don’t deserve this. Let me help you!” Bucky recognizes the voice as Tony’s and turns to punch the door, punching right through it and narrowly missing hitting Tony.

“Hey, woah, buddy, slow down,” Tony says, putting his hands up in surrender, “I’m trying to help you.”

Bucky yells and grabs Tony’s throat with his metal arm, hoisting him high in the air and throwing him across the hallway like a ragdoll. The air is sucked out of Tony’s lungs when he hits the wall, and he puts his hands in front of himself protectively. While he tries to catch his breath, he manages to rasp,  

“Bucky, calm the fuck down.” The only reason Bucky pauses is because Tony’s taken the time to actually say his name instead of calling him a nickname. It gives Tony enough time to talk, and he talks _fast_. “Look. I know this has been a rough patch for both of us. We got off on the wrong foot and everything just got worse. Steve is a good friend of mine and we’ve had stupid fights for the past few days and I know that. They were stupid because I was being petty and he was being defensive of you. He admires the hell outta you and I’m sure there’s a lot there to be admired. The rest of us don’t know you like Steve does, not even Clint and Natasha who pretend they do because they’ve hung around you more. I want to know you. I want to know more than the legend of the Winter Soldier, more than the stories my dad mentioned in passing about you and Steve, more than the little bit I’ve seen while you’ve been here. I want to make it up to you, so here I am. Please don’t hit me, Pepper will _kill_ me.” Bucky clenches and unclenches his fists before taking deep breaths through his nose, forcing his anger to dissipate by focusing on someone who doesn’t piss him off.

 _Just kill him_ the Winter Soldier hisses in his ear _He doesn’t deserve to live. He’s a coward and he hurt Steve._

_He deserves to live. You deserve to die. I killed his parents, I won’t kill him too._

_You can just finish what you’ve already started. He’s making it easy for you_ the Soldier counters casually as though they’re deciding on which kind of pizza they want.

 _Shut the hell up and get out of my head_ Bucky thinks, forcing himself forward and shutting out the voice as best he can. He walks up to Tony, who winces when Bucky raises his hand, and he decides to just give Tony a hard swat to the side of the head. It hurts, but not enough to bruise. Just a warning shot.

“Okay, I probably deserved that,” Tony says, wincing and rubbing his head. Bucky snorts in bitter amusement.

“Yeah, you think?” He notices Tony’s neck is bleeding from thin scratches where Bucky had held him and his eyes widen. He looks down at his metal hand and notices shards of glass peeking out from the joints in the palm of his hand, which presumably scraped Tony when Bucky picked him up. Bucky silently helps Tony up and then goes back into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door behind him, and heaves into the sink. He notices Tony walks up behind him, his neck starting to bruise and still bleeding, but regardless he puts a hand tentatively on Bucky’s shoulder blade in an attempt to comfort him until he finishes, saying softly,

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine, kid. You’ll get through this, you’re doing really well. You’ll feel better after this, I promise…”

Bucky hears a pair of approaching footsteps and marks one down as Steve, for sure (if he had a quarter for every time he guesses Steve’s walk, he’d be rich) and the other one as a woman, but it could be Natasha or Pepper. More likely Pepper because Natasha only wears heels when she’s acting a part or she really has to. For the first time, Bucky notices that both he and Tony are in bare feet and standing on broken glass. Great.

“Oh _, Bucky_ ,” Pepper says, eyeing the marks on Tony’s neck and the broken mirror and the state of the sink. The sink and the mirror wouldn’t matter except for that they are evidence of Bucky’s pain. She’s more worried about the two people in the bathroom standing on broken glass.

Steve, on the other hand, is frozen.  Shocked to see Tony helping Bucky, embarrassed to see what Bucky’s done to the bathroom, and disappointed that the scene in front of him is another reminder that just because Bucky remembers doesn’t mean everything’s all better. In fact, it could mean things are getting worse. More tension and anxiety now that Bucky, presumably, knows everything he’s done.

After Steve doesn’t say anything, Pepper points out, “Tony…your feet, honey.” Tony glances down and seems to finally notice he’s stepping on broken glass.

“Oh. Right. That.” He barely flinches when he tries to guide Bucky out of the bathroom, but Bucky resists, staring blankly at the broken remains of the mirror, looking for something he evidently isn’t finding. Then he slowly, to the protests of Tony and Pepper, starts to sit down, completely unaware of his surroundings. Steve finally moves, his feet unglued from the floor, and catches Bucky under the knees before he completely falls on top of the glass and hurts himself more than he already has. Bucky flails like a toddler, grabbing a large shard of glass and hacking at his hair.

Steve picks Bucky up all the way now, carrying him out of the bathroom in spite of the fact that now three of them have unnecessary glass embedded in the bottom of their feet.

“Bucky, stop it,” Steve says firmly, trying to grab his hand when he sets Bucky down on the floor across the hallway. “Stop it, what are you doing?” Bucky pulls his wrist away from Steve, hard and Steve notices he’s crying.

“I don’t…I don’t,” Bucky hiccups through his tears, still hacking at his hair, “Need it gone. It hurts, Steve, it hurts!” His eyes are shining and desperate, having now haphazardly chopped off one side of his hair, as he clings on to Steve’s arms with his own. He lets the glass fall out of his hand onto the floor and Tony grabs it quickly and puts it out of Bucky’s reach.

“What hurts? Bucky, what hurts?” Steve asks urgently, stroking Bucky’s hair with one hand.

“Everything…my head…my arm…my hair…my eyes…my throat…I can’t do this anymore, I can’t.”

“Buck, I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Steve says, trying to keep his voice even. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky shakes his head. “They’re trying to talk to  me…they’re in my head…they won’t leave me alone…that’s why I broke the mirror…they were coming out of the mirror…”

“Steve, he’s hallucinating,” Tony says, his tone slightly alarmed, “I _told_ you we needed to fix this, once and for all.”

“You can’t just fix it,” Steve snaps. “You and I both know it’s not that easy.”

“No, Steve…I don’t…I don’t hallucinate…Stark’s right…they’re _in my head_ , Steve…trying to fix me…trying to make me better…trying to make me theirs…” Steve finally looks up at Tony and Pepper helplessly.

“Can one of you get Sam? I need to make sure before I put him in any more labs. It makes him jittery as it is.”

“I’d say he’s about as ‘jittered’ as he’s gonna get, smart one,” Tony says, a little harsher than he intends to. Pepper rolls her eyes and grabs Sam from the kitchen. Bucky’s already rolled into Steve’s arms, trying to hide himself and make himself as small as possible. Steve holds him close and continues petting his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

“I’m not a cat, Rogers,” Bucky snaps. “Stop petting me.” Steve pulls his hand away like he’d been burned.

“Fine. Sorry. Trying to help,” Steve mutters, his cheeks flushing. He puts his free hand to use by gathering Bucky closer to him, which Bucky doesn’t seem to mind so much. He rests his chin on the top of Bucky’s head, closes his eyes, and waits for Sam.

Sam’s back with Pepper in a minute and Sam kneels in front of Bucky. Steve relinquishes his grip and Bucky turns to look at him. Before Sam gets a chance to talk, Bucky rasps,

“Am I crazy?” _Oh Jesus, Bucky…_ Steve almost feels like Bucky is trying to hurt him.

“No,” Sam says firmly, and after seeing the look on Steve’s face, he makes sure to reinforce the idea that Bucky is definitely not crazy and he should never ever ask that question again. “You’re not crazy. You’ve never been crazy. You’re suffering from PTSD, among I’m sure a few other things. Pepper said someone was in your head. Has this happened before?”

“Yeah, but...it was more dreamlike. I could tell it wasn’t real. This felt…” Bucky shivers and Steve feels him do it, “This felt real. Like someone was whispering in my ear.”

“Did this happen with HYDRA?”

Bucky swallows quickly and glances at Steve, who’s trying his best to keep a straight face. Then he looks back at Sam and nods.

“Can you tell me about it?”

Bucky starts to shake his head ‘no’, but then slowly stops and starts to nod again.

“I…I always had a comm unit with me…I mean, obviously, so I knew where to meet and all that. But…for some reason, if I started to doubt what I was doing, which wasn’t often, I’d hear that voice. In my ear, telling me that HYDRA needed me, the world needed me…I needed to do it for the good of mankind.” Bucky wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I can’t believe I fed into that bullshit.”

Sam sits back on his heels, tilting his head to the side and watching Bucky for a second before saying, “I don’t think HYDRA is trying to contact you, nor do I think you’re hallucinating…or at least, not in the way you think you are. You broke the programming, but it’s still there, in pieces, in your head. Like the mirror – broken, but not gone. When you get agitated, it tries to latch onto that weakness, I think.” Bucky sighs at the word ‘weakness’, though what’s he supposed to say about it? It is a weakness, though perhaps not in the way Sam meant it. Sam glances up at Steve. “That’s what I think. It’s trying to piece itself back together again. It’s just the programming.”

“Can Tony get it out?” Steve asks, gesturing briefly behind him at Pepper and Tony. “Can he fix it?”

“I’m not Bob the Builder, Princess,” Tony says, crossing his arms. Pepper steps on his foot and he complains loudly, “Ow! I’ll do my best, jeezus, Pepper…”

Sam shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s that easy, Steve. Bucky…you’ve been programmed for fifty years, consistently and then just put in stasis in between. It’s gonna be harder to break than that. We’d probably have to reprogram you and wipe your mind just to get rid of that. And that’s not an option.”

“Why not?” Bucky asks, completely seriously. Sam lifts an eyebrow at him.

“You do realize that would mean putting you through basically what HYDRA did, except for the fact that _we would be doing it?_ ”

“Yeah, Bucky, no, that’s not happening. Not an option,” Steve says quickly, knowing Bucky will do everything and anything stupid if it means getting rid of the Winter Soldier. “And Sam, when did you become an expert on this?” Sam deadpans,

“I’ve been reading up.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. I’m not keen on sitting around, Steve.” Steve hears the thinly veiled hurt in Sam’s voice and realizes he’s barely spent any time with Sam since Bucky showed up at his apartment. He knows Sam doesn’t blame him, not in the slightest, but it doesn’t stop him from being a little hurt.

“I…thanks, Sam. I really appreciate it…I do.” Sam gives him a gracious smile and Steve smiles apologetically back at him. He’ll take it.

“There is another option,” he says slowly, “But you ain’t gonna like it.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this next chapter of seriousness because the next chapter will be silly :P

“Therapy?! No. No way. Just kill me. Or wipe me. I really don’t care.”

“Bucky, don’t,” Steve says, with an amused glance at Sam. Tony and Pepper rejoined the rest of the Avengers after Sam told them the second option. Tony responded to Sam’s suggestion with a snort and an unsavory comment, at which point Bucky gave him an unsavory hand gesture. At which point Pepper shooed Tony away before the two of them could get into it.

“Ste-eve,” he whines. Sam laughs,

“It’s really not that bad, Bucky. We just talk.” Bucky scowls.

“Yeah, about feelings, which both of you know are my favorite topic.” His voice is thick with sarcasm as he glares heavily at the both of them.

“I won’t.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’d really appreciate it,” Steve says, giving Bucky his doe-eyed innocent look. Bucky shakes his head.

“Don’t give me that look, Steve, goddammit. You manipulative little…”

~

Two days later Bucky is sitting in a chair opposite Sam. It’s a relatively short session, given that neither of them says a word for the first fifteen minutes. Finally Sam asks for the third time,

“How are you feeling?”

“Like not talking,” Bucky says, leaning his face on one hand. “Sorry, Sam.”

“Steve needs us to do this,” Sam says, “If nothing else, talk to me for Steve.”

“I don’t…I thought this was supposed to help me, not Steve.”

“Trust me, man, it’s helping both of you. You get to keep the Winter Soldier’s ass under control and Steve keeps his mother hen under control.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Bucky snorts, “But it makes him feel better, at least.”

“Exactly.” There’s a pregnant pause before Bucky asks,

“So what’s the secret? How am I supposed to keep him under control?”

“You said he taunts you, right? I suggest a set of affirmations to remind yourself that he’s wrong. You’re not him anymore. You’re no longer giving in to those impulses.”

“But they were a part of me,” Bucky clarifies. “Right?” Sam hesitates, wondering whether in this case it would be better to lie or tell the truth. He knows Steve would probably choose the truth, and in Bucky’s case, it may be what he needs to hear.

“…Yes. But you were presented with a choice when you saw Steve again, and you chose right. From what I hear, you had a lot of chances to kill the stupid bastard and you never did.”

“I almost did,” Bucky mumbles, though he looks slightly amused at Sam’s jab at Steve’s inability to accept Bucky, brainwashed or not, would ever hurt him – it almost got him killed. “Almost.”

“But you didn’t, and that’s what matters. How did that happen?” Bucky narrows his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“In your mind. What were you thinking when you…hesitated to kill Steve? Were you fighting the programming then?”

“I…that was different,” Bucky says, licking his lips thoughtfully. “He surprised me. It wasn’t like I recognized him and started fighting the programming, it was more…I was too curious to actually follow through with killing him. No one had ever recognized me before. And then when he seemed familiar, I knew I had a job to do, but at the same time I was wondering what he would do.” Bucky looks lost in the memory now. “When he…said my name on the helicarrier, trying to remind me of who I was…I knew he wasn’t wrong. There was something there and I wanted to know what I was. He saw me as a person and he was…compassionate. I never really talked to my targets, much less gave them a chance to talk to me. I think it was more surprise and curiosity than anything.” Sam sighs, as though slightly disappointed it wasn’t a different answer. Bucky pretends not to notice.

“Then maybe…maybe if the Soldier is trying to break you, you focus on something else. Focus on something that keeps you grounded, keeps you human.”

“I am human,” Bucky says, his eyes round like saucers, as though he’s just remembering this now.

“Yes,” Sam nods. “What reminds you of that?”

“Steve,” Bucky says instantly. “Always.” Sam’s lips twist into a small smile.

“Good. We can come up with your affirmations next time if focusing on Steve doesn’t work.” Bucky nods, pressing his lips together. He stands to leave and then pauses, turning back to Sam.

“…Thanks…for all your help.”

“No problem, man, just doing my job,” Sam says, waving at him as he goes.

~

Steve’s waiting for Bucky outside the door and immediately starts walking with him towards the kitchen when he arrives.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

“Fine.”

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

“Sam’s a good guy, Buck…”

“I know,” Bucky says, stopping to look at Steve, “I get it, okay? You were right.” It comes out more sharply than he realizes and Steve opens his mouth to speak and recognizes when he’s getting shut down.

“Okay.”

~

The next few days are quiet around the tower. Steve doesn’t see much of Bucky, or Tony for that matter. But then, Tony’s locked up in his lab, so he’s hardly surprised. Natasha and Clint insist they don’t know where he is, but Steve knows better. He finally finds him sitting on the edge of the neon A that marks the tower, looking down at the city below.

Steve starts to crawl from the landing to the neon A, but when Bucky notices he shakes his head and says,

“Stop, I’m coming to you. If your punk ass falls, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“What if your punk ass falls?” Steve mutters mutinously under his breath as he crawls back to the landing, Bucky following close behind him. Bucky stands up when Steve offers him a hand and the two look at each other for a second.

“What?” Bucky asks finally.

“What…oh, um, yeah, where have you been? I haven’t seen much of you at all in the last three days and you’re sitting out here perched on the tower like Clint. What happened –?”

“I don’t deserve you,” Bucky says shortly, cutting him off. “Not any of you, but especially you.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, reaching out to touch him, but suddenly afraid to. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I may remember, but I’m not who I used to be. I’m not who I was pretending to be the other night at dinner before things went south. I’ll never be the friend you expect me to be. And for the others…I’m not good for them and they know it.”

“Did Tony say something to you?” Steve says, his jaw clenching. Bucky looks momentarily surprised before replying,

“No…no, Tony’s been fine. Great actually. Nicer than usual, which I’m not sure is a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll take what I can get, but…I don’t deserve your kindness. I’m a monster, I almost killed you. I almost killed Natasha and Sam and I could just as easily slip into what I used to be.” Steve could tell it’s been weighing on his mind, so he says bravely,

“And I don’t deserve your trust. We can both play at the guilt game.” He crosses his arms and Bucky tilts his head to the side in bewilderment. “I let you fall.” Bucky immediately backtracks and says,

“Hey, no, that wasn’t your fault and I know that. I was too far away and if you’d saved me, or tried to, we both would have fallen.” Steve could tell this was a soft spot for Bucky, despite what he may tell himself or Steve. “There was nothing you could do.”

“I could have looked for you. I could have looked for a body to bring home and bury, but instead, we kept moving and put an empty casket in the ground. I could have read the signs that Zola had done something strange to you when he captured your division. When you came back, you weren’t the same. There were plenty of things I could have done, including keeping you at camp that day instead of insisting on bringing you with us. You were in no shape health-wise to come, and I was selfish enough to ask because I knew you could never say no.” Bucky swallows, eyes blinking a little faster than usual. They both know it to be true, but Steve’s getting his point across. There are things on both sides that could have been done to prevent where they are today. It doesn’t stop Steve from being guilty. “I could have made you stay behind on that mountain to watch. I could have made sure that guy was down before I turned my back that you had to cover for me. Point being, I could have saved you from fifty years of stasis, torture, brainwashing, nightmares, and PTSD, among countless other things. Hell, Bucky, playing the blame game with me, you’re going to lose.”

“But if you’d saved me,” Bucky says slowly, making Steve’s heart clench at first, “Then where would we be today? I’d be dead, or close to it, after having suffered years of heartache thinking you’d died, just like Peggy. And you’d be left standing here with no one left from your old life. You’d only have the future to look forward to, not the past to relive.”

“You’d be at peace,” Steve says with a sigh, having already thought this through in his head.

Bucky shakes his head and says something reminiscent of a conversation long since passed: “No. Not without you.” Steve’s lip twist into a smile at the bittersweet memory.

“Let’s make a deal: I’ll stop worrying about how I could have saved you if you stop worrying about how you almost killed me. If you’d really wanted to kill me, Bucky, I’d be dead. You always stopped yourself from taking killer shots, and it would have been too easy.”

“Yeah, because you were being a stupid ass – ”

“Punk, yeah I know.”

“I was going to say ‘friend’, but that works too.” Steve laughs and says,

“Deal or no deal?”

“Deal,” Bucky says, though he’s slightly hesitant. He adds, “You do know it’s not that easy to just stop blaming yourself, right?”

“Of course I know that. But we’ll try for each other, okay? We can’t afford to wallow in self-pity forever, Bucky. We’ve got work to do.”

“What work?” Steve grins.

“You’ve got some catching up to do, and frankly, so do I.” Bucky groans, but Steve can tell he’s not seriously disappointed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever's been taking this fic seriously beforehand, I am very flattered, but I suggest you take it slightly less seriously for chapters to come as this is somewhat of a crack fic :)

They start by asking Natasha if they can use her laptop for internet later that day. She gives them a firm (and somewhat shady) ‘no’ and directs them towards the general computer Tony has set up for anyone who wants to use it. She does, however, suggest looking up cat videos on Youtube, a site Steve has not yet had the pleasure of using.

Steve starts off by explaining the Internet, which evidently Bucky’s been briefly introduced to before, so he’s annoyed that Steve’s explaining it to him like he’s five.

“Just look up the damn cat videos, Rogers,” Bucky growls lightheartedly, shoving him lightly with his elbow. Steve rolls his eyes and grins, typing Youtube into the URL space and finding one quickly. They find the cat videos Natasha referred them to and are in tears within the first five minutes, hooting with laughter. Steve’s hunched over the desk, laughing silently as tears stream down his cheeks and Bucky’s howling and punching the wall next to him with the side of his fist, which may be worse for the wall. Tony walks in on them as they go from video to video, having taken a break from the lab to socialize for once. He was concerned about the strange noises coming from the computer room, so he checks in to see Bucky and Steve pointing and laughing. When they see Tony, Steve shouts in between laughs,

“Tony, _look_ , this cat looks like _Hitler_!”

Bucky and Steve collapse into fits of laughter again and Tony can’t help but laugh with them. Thor, Natasha, Clint, and Sam all trickle in at some point until the whole gang is doubled over, leaning on each other, and watching the crazy antics of a few internet cats. Jane, Pepper, and Bruce are out on separate errands and walk in together to find the Avengers, all in the living room so they could sit down with the computer hooked up to the television, laughing their asses off. It’s weird not only to find them in this state, but the fact that they are strewn together in various positions so arms and legs are tangled with one another and they all manage to fit themselves on one slightly larger than average couch, is astounding.

“Wow,” Pepper comments cynically, although she has a smile on her face, “It’s like you guys are friends or something.” Tony looks back at her and snickers.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Bonding over cat videos,” Bruce says, shaking his head and hiding a smirk. “Amazing.”

Steve and Bucky are sharing a chair off to the side not on the couch, and they’re just as confused as to whose arms and legs are where. They moved off the couch after Bucky accidentally hit Thor in the forehead with his metal arm and Thor reciprocated with another smack to the shoulder, which luckily didn’t incite Bucky only because he was laughing too hard to care.

“Are they drunk?” Jane asks Pepper, “‘Cos you really don’t wanna see Thor drunk. It’s not pretty.” Pepper laughs and says,

“No, they’re just having fun for once. I think they’ve been so tense lately that some funny cat videos are giving them a high.” Tony gives a maniacal laugh as she says it and Pepper quirks an eyebrow and adds, “Though I can never really tell with Tony.”

Bruce suggests they change it to Monty Python, both to introduce it to Bucky and Steve, and to keep the good mood going. Outside the tower, heavy rain starts to fall, and lightning crackles in the distance. No one seems to notice until when the opening credits stop rolling, the power goes out.

“Aw shit,” Tony mutters, just as he hears Pepper scream from across the tower,

“TONY!” She comes stomping into the room with a cat following her, brushing up against her legs. She sneezes violently and Tony sits up. He untangles himself from Natasha and Clint and cradles the cat in his arms, taking it a few feet away from Pepper.

“You’re allergic?”

“Yes, I’m allergic! You know that!” she says between sneezes. Tony looks slightly crestfallen and Steve asks,

“Tony, what’s going on?”

“Well…hrm…nobody wanted them so…”

“There’s more than one?” Pepper interrupts, sounding frustrated and distressed at the same time, her voice slightly muffled as though she’s about to sneeze again. And she does.

“Come on, Pepper, away from the cat,” Jane says finally, ushering Pepper into the adjacent kitchen.

“You adopted cats, Stark?” Clint asks, looking like he’s torn between amusement and confusion.

“It was really weird actually,” Tony says, petting the kitten purring in his arms. “I was walking by a pet store – you know the kind with the windows to tempt you – and there they are, all eight, meowing and pleading with me.”

“Cats don’t plead, Tony,” Natasha deadpans, but she’s hiding a smile.

“Well, obviously you’ve never met kittens,” Tony says indignantly. They hear a distant groan from the kitchen:

“ _Eight cats_?! Are you trying to kill me?” Tony ignores it for now and seems to make a note to fix everything with Pepper later.

“Look, they’ve all got that look on their face that Capsicle and Anastasia get when they’re sad –” Steve and Bucky look at each other and back at Tony, waiting for him to make a point, “I couldn’t resist, what was I supposed to do?”

“Not buy eight kittens?” Clint asks.

“I’m a sucker for a cute face,” Tony says, semi-sarcastically, wiggling his eyebrows at Natasha. She laughs now but makes a mental note to smack him for it later.

“Eight cute faces,” Bucky snorts, “What, one for each of us?”

“Yes, actually,” Tony says, crossing his arms, “Though if you’d like to opt out I can give your kitten to Jane instead.”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Thought so.” Tony looks ridiculously excited about the cats when Natasha interrupts,

“Is this a good idea, Tony?”

“What, why do you ask?” He’s dancing on his toes, ready to run upstairs and hand out kittens like candy. Steve is physically pained by how happy he looks, because if Natasha shuts him down now, it’s obvious he’ll be crushed. Bucky picks up on this as Steve does and watches the conversation carefully.

“Is it safe? Someone could have planted them or something, and don’t they have tracker chips? We could be followed and HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Bucky kicks out at Natasha to stop her from talking and ends up kicking her rump, sending her whirling around in his direction. Her mouth drops in surprise for a second before she narrows her eyes and smirks, “Oh, it is _so_ on.” She knows better than to tackle Bucky there, but Steve predicts some sort of nasty surprise in his future. While she’s distracted, Tony sneaks away and grabs a box from upstairs with seven mewling kittens in it, the eighth one still downstairs having followed Pepper earlier.

“So many cats today,” Clint says under his breath. “What the hell?”

“Don’t argue with it.” Steve shrugs. Sam, who’s been quiet the whole time, suddenly pitches in,

“Yeah, man, you don’t argue with cats. Tony Stark bought y’all kittens, just take it.”

“I don’t even like cats,” Natasha grumbles. “They’re self-centered little things with sharp claws–” She’s interrupted by Clint coughing violently in an attempt to hide a laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Clint laughs, snickering under his breath. “You’re just…funny. That’s all.” Natasha smirks sidelong at him.

“Tell me or I’ll smack you.”

“Nah, I’ll pass.” She smacks him lightly in the back of the head, and he rubs it like it really hurt, but it doesn’t. It’s the usual playful banter between the two. Thor starts to snore when he puts his head down on a pillow and it’s Natasha who accidentally elbows him that wakes up.

“Natasha, you have very sharp elbows,” he mutters sleepily. “Kindly keep them to yourself.”

“Sorry.”

Tony skips down the stairs with the box and starts handing them out as if he pre-picked them for each Avenger. He starts with Steve and Bucky. Steve gets a Russian blue kitten with bright blue eyes, and Bucky gets a tortoiseshell tabby mutt that has a ridiculous amount of colors mixed in to one tiny body. He wakes Thor to hand him a dark orange tabby with sleepy blue eyes, and then gives Sam a grey tabby with hazel eyes. Natasha gets a jet black kitten with alert green eyes and Clint receives a tuxedo cat with a stub tail.

“Hey, Tony,” Clint says with a frown, holding up the cat, “He’s missing something.”

“She,” Tony corrects him, “She’s missing her tail and you should give her extra love for it.”

“But what if she falls? Isn’t it for balance or something?”

“You’ll be fine, Clint. She trusts you.”

“She what?” Tony ignores him and holds up the last two kittens. He lifts up the pale orange tabby and says,

“This one is Pepper’s.” He alternates and lifts up the white kitten with blue eyes.

“And this one’s mine.”

“What about Pepper’s allergies?” Natasha asks.

“That’s where the fun comes in,” Tony smirks, setting the kittens down, “I get to play with their DNA.”

“Oh perfect.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Just to make them hypoallergenic,” Tony explains, “It’s not a big deal. They’ll just shed less and not produce the –”

“Alright, spare us on the science,” Clint interrupts, looking at his kitten curiously. “And uh, thanks Stark.” They all thank him in turn and start to head up to their floors for the night.

“Am I the only one that thinks this is weird?” Natasha asks when she, Steve, and Bucky are the only ones left in the elevator. Bucky’s kitten is perched on his shoulder nuzzling in his hair and he doesn’t seem to know what to do with him, while Steve’s is purring in his arms and Natasha’s is sitting in her hand, wide eyed and curiously sniffing at Natasha.

“I mean…” Steve starts to say, lifting his kitten up to look at him better, “Tony does what he wants. But yeah, buying everyone kittens is a new one.” Natasha narrows her eyes.

“I know, but it seems odder than usual, even for Stark. There’s something up.”

“You just don’t like cats,” Bucky says with a smirk, petting the one on his shoulder with a finger. Natasha glares at him and sticks her tongue out. “Come on, ‘Tasha, how can you say no to that face? She even looks like you.” Natasha rolls her eyes and scratches the kitten behind the ears in spite of herself.

“Just don’t let your guard down, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Yeah, around a bunch of kittens,” Bucky snorts. “I’m really scared.” Natasha sighs and glances over at Steve for help. He’s distracted by his cat for the moment until he looks up and sees her looking at him. He shrugs again.

“I think it’s fine until we have reason to think otherwise, ‘Tasha.”

“Yes, very helpful,” she snaps, stepping out of the elevator with a significant look at Bucky. “Everything’s fine until it’s not.” The elevator shuts quickly behind her and Bucky shakes his head.

“Flare for the dramatic, huh?”

“Not usually.” Steve frowns after her as the door shuts. “Usually that’s me. Jumping out of a plane without a parachute would be a good example.” He doesn’t notice Bucky staring at him with mouth slightly ajar until Bucky yells,

“You did WHAT?”


	14. Chapter 14

All the way out of the elevator and back to the room Bucky is ranting at Steve, who’s barely listening anymore. He’s exhausted and it’s been a _very_ long day.

“How did you even manage without me around?...-jumping out of planes…no parachute…could have died…you stupid kid…what were you thinking…what would your mother say…were you even thinking at all…?”

Steve sighs and rolls his eyes affectionately, not having the heart nor the energy to quiet Bucky’s rambling.

Neither of them acknowledges Bucky crawling into bed with Steve. It is new for this decade, but not new in general. Especially during the winter the two would huddle for warmth under the covers of one or the other’s bed, and more often than not it was Bucky crawling in next to Steve to keep his small frame warm. It’s nothing new, but it’s nothing recent either. Needless to say it’s familiar, if slightly awkward.

They used to fit together easily, and in today’s terms, Bucky was the big spoon. Now Bucky’s trying to remember if they touched at all while sleeping, or if they slept on separate sides, or how on earth did they manage this in the first place? Steve is lying on his side not facing Bucky and waiting for him to figure it out. And then he tries to help and somehow makes it worse.

They’re bumping elbows against sides and knees against shins and it’s a mess that may or may not leave them more exhausted than they were in the first place and the effort may not even be worth it. Bucky finally gives up and lies on his back and Steve follows suit. He rolls onto his side again, which is more comfortable for him. Bucky falls asleep quickly while Steve lies awake wondering when things will stop being awkward with them or when they will ever fall back into their normal routine. He figures never.

Once Bucky’s asleep, he starts twitching, somewhat like the kittens that are sleeping in the corner together on a towel Steve threw on the floor a couple of days ago. He’s groaning in his sleep, and then whimpering. Steve’s heart hurts for him, wishing more than ever that he could just wipe the slate clean for his friend and make it so that nothing bad ever happened - that nothing ever changed. He’s glad the nightmare isn’t worse, for Bucky’s sake and his own.

Steve reaches across the bed and puts a hand on Bucky’s arm in some vain hope that that will help, and then…it does. Bucky shudders and then lies still, reaching across quickly with his metal arm to grab Steve’s hand. Steve wonders sleepily what Bucky can feel with the metal. Pressure? Temperature? Texture? Pain? Regardless, he’s comforted by the thought that maybe he can feel more. Once Bucky has Steve’s hand secured in his own, he gently untangles his right arm from under Steve’s arm and releases Steve’s hand with the left so he can it with his right. Maybe Bucky can only feel with his right hand which is why he switched. _Or maybe it’s more comfortable for him, you idiot_ a voice chimes in his head.

So with that, Bucky lying on the left and Steve on the right and their hands clasped together in a way that Steve doesn’t mind and Bucky doesn’t realize he’s doing, Steve finally falls asleep.

~

When Steve wakes up, he’s lying on his side facing Bucky and Bucky is lying on his side facing Steve and their hands are still threaded lightly together. The nightmares went away for that night and Bucky slept more soundly than Steve knew he had for ages. He studies Bucky’s face for a minute, no longer tense and strained the way it usually is when he sleeps.

Bucky probably wouldn’t have woken up for a while if it hadn’t been for the cats. The two cats, the Russian blue and the patchwork kitten, which Steve and Bucky still haven’t decided on names for yet, leap onto the bed and start cuddling and mewling in the spaces between Steve and Bucky’s faces and the bed. Bucky awakes with a start, startled by a tail under his nose and he blows fluff away from his face.

“Dammit…” he says groggily, “What the hell…?” He pulls his hand out of Steve’s, not noticing that he had, and rubs his eyes. “Oh. Cats. Right. Damn.” Steve quirks an eyebrow at him.

“We should name them.”

“Why?”

“They need names, Bucky.”

“Well, let’s start with genders. I don’t even know what mine is.” He knocks the kitten gently on its side and lifts its leg up to look. Steve crinkles his nose and Bucky scoffs at him.

“Don’t give me that look, Steve. Cats don’t have or need modesty. I can check for you if you’re too squeamish, you big sissy.” Steve rolls his eyes and then nods,

“Uh…yeah, sure, you can check for me.” Bucky snickers at Steve’s embarrassment and lifts up the leg of the blue kitten.

“They’re both girls. Congratulations.” Steve sighs when his kitten rubs under his nose again, as though purposely trying to make him sneeze, and settles right next to his face.

“They’re cute, I’ll grant ‘em that,” Steve says, “Though my last experience with cats was with alley cats in Brooklyn.”

“Those little shits…nearly gave you rabies, remember?” Steve laughs and points at the small scar on his wrist from the scratch.

“Yeah…gave my mom a scare. You were so sure I was gonna start foaming at the mouth…oh my God, Bucky…” Steve trails off and glances at his friend curiously. “Well…I’m sure these ones don’t have rabies. Tony probably ran a bunch of tests or something. He’s probably bringing them in today to make them hypoaller-whatever so Pepper won’t go into anaphylactic shock.”

“Is she that allergic?” Bucky asks, crinkling his nose.

“I dunno,” Steve shrugs. He glances down at his cat, sitting up on his elbow and pokes at her fur experimentally. “Would you laugh if I named my cat Peggy?” Bucky stares at him for a second before looking down at his respective kitten and saying quietly,

“Not if you didn’t laugh if I named my cat Becky.”

“Your sister?” Bucky shrugs as though it doesn’t matter, but Steve notices there’s some tension there. “Is she, ah…around anymore?”

“Nah. She died a few years ago, left some kids and some grandbabies. None of them know me of course, except for the stories.”

“I’m sorry, Buck, really I am.” Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s cheek, pushing his hair back from his face and rubbing his thumb up and down soothingly. Bucky closes his eyes and leans into Steve’s touch, trying hard not to show how much Rebecca’s death really meant to him.

“‘S fine. The only family I really need is here.” He smiles at Steve halfheartedly, but Steve knows as well as Bucky that it hurts more than he wants to believe it does.

“That means you have family. Real family,” Steve tries. “Have you talked to them?” Bucky makes a face at him as if to say ‘Really, Steve?’ and rolls over onto his back, letting Steve’s arm fall away from him.

“No,” he says quietly, despite wishing he could be scathingly sarcastic with his reply. “I haven’t. I don’t think they’d want to know me. They’re related to a killer. I can’t put that on them. For all they know I’m dead.”

“You can’t think that,” Steve says quickly. “They know you’re not dead. Or they should, if they follow social media. Natasha released all of SHIELD’s and HYDRA’s intel – there’s stuff in there about you. And about me, and her, and all of us.” Bucky sits up quickly and Steve starts to realize there are some things he neglected to tell him…on purpose or by accident he can’t remember.

“She did _what_?” Becky meows indignantly at being displaced and rubs against Bucky’s arm.

“She had to, to expose HYDRA and…well, sort of to save SHIELD’s ass a bit,” Steve confesses. “She wanted to make sure people knew there was a clear difference between the two. She had to scrap both of them and start over, and we couldn’t do that without releasing all of the information. Don’t give me that look – it was at great personal risk to herself, Bucky. Do you know what she had to do after that? She’s got a rep just like yours and she was in her own head when she did it.”

“So they know…” Bucky says, lying back and staring at the ceiling, “They know everything.”

“Well…not everything. Not even SHIELD knew everything, but the HYDRA files may be more vindictive.”

“Wait, hang on a second,” Bucky says, narrowing his eyes. “If everyone knows what I’ve done…why am I not sitting in a jail somewhere? I killed people…lots of people…very _important people_ , Steve.”

“When the government comes knocking at our door for your ass, I’ll let you know. But for now I think they’re cleaning up SHIELD and HYDRA’s mess and aren’t really concerned about confronting the Avengers to arrest you. They’ll come when they’re good and ready and by then they’re own evidence can and will be used against them because I read your file and it talks about the methods they used on you. They might be able to prove you did it, but we can prove you were forced to, even if we can’t prove that they brainwashed you.”

Bucky whistles and says with a smirk, “Wow, Steve Rogers, you have quite the little case built up for me, don’tcha?”

“Of course.” Steve smiles. “I thought of this. I wouldn’t let them take you away. If worse comes to worst, Tony can stick some green bills under some people’s noses and they’ll suddenly decide you’re about as innocent as a baby.” 

“I’ve never been as innocent as a baby,” Bucky says, his lips twitching as he tries to hold back an amused grin. “But you’ve always been a fucking boy scout.” Steve smiles and looks down at the bed, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expect longer gaps between posting now just because school has started for me and not only do I have school, but also a sport, Mock Trial, and college applications to do. I'll try to keep this updating fairly regularly but I can't guarantee anything.

Natasha decides it’s about time she checks on her boys (Bucky and Steve that is – Clint is her main boy, but she knows he’s fine), so with no thought for courtesy or modesty, she flings open the door to their bedroom and comes in. They have to find out sooner or later. Casually, she quirks an eyebrow at them in their current position and comments coyly,

“You look…cozy. Mind if I squish in?” Her kitten is following her faithfully, whom she has decided to christen ‘Lucy’, or alternatively ‘Natattack’, which Clint both created and likes to use despite Natasha’s protests. Bucky and Steve both look embarrassed now and just sort of shrug and nod at her, knowing that she would do what she wants regardless. She sprawls out at the end of the bed near their feet, props her head up on one hand, completing the triangle they make, and traces the covers with one finger. Steve narrows his eyes at her – Natasha never makes her hands move unless she’s distracted and determinedly trying to look like she’s not. It’s something he’s picked up while working with her – her hands are always steady and doing something useful when she’s focused.

“Nat, what is it?”

“What’s what?” she asks with a sigh, though for all the effort she’s giving to make it look like something’s not wrong, it’s even obvious to Bucky that she’s not pleased with something. Natasha finally meets Steve’s gaze and glances ever so briefly at Bucky, and then back to Steve.

“Er…someone called. Last night, after you two were upstairs.”

“You went with us, if I remember correctly,” Bucky says lazily.

“Yeah, well, I had Jarvis direct calls to me so I can listen if I need to. Keeping tabs on Tony is an unspoken occupation I have here.”

“You’re sounding a lot like Fury lately,” Steve says with a snort. Natasha doesn’t laugh, but lets a smile dance lightly on her lips.

“Funny you say that, Steve. Because that’s who called.” Steve and Natasha’s staring contest is broken by Bucky slamming his hand on the comforters, startling all three kittens as well as two out of three of their owners.

“Dammit - you guys don’t tell me anything! He’s alive? I killed him!”

“Yeah, well, Fury’s harder to kill than he looks,” Natasha shrugs.

“Yeah, just a bit,” Bucky mutters mutinously, “That’s what I thought when I first met him. The second time I thought I got him for sure.”

“You didn’t,” Natasha says shortly, “Lucky for us. Thank you very much.” Steve cuts Bucky’s indignant response off with a sharp look and shifts his attention back to Natasha.

“What did he want?”

“Um…” Natasha purses her lips together and gives Steve a significant look and a quick glance at Bucky. Steve furrows his brow and frowns, lifting an eyebrow at her. Natasha shrugs back. Bucky looks between them both having a silent conversation and becomes so frustrated that he throws his hands up in the air and says,

“Out with it, ‘Tasha! You guys are freaking me out.”

“Quite frankly he’s worried about you,” Natasha says, biting her lip. “Worried about what you may or may not do, where your state of mind is, where your loyalties lie, all that garbage. I mean, I get it…he doesn’t understand how quickly you’ve bounced back recovery-wise –”

“It took me a year and I’m still not done,” Bucky growls. Natasha gives him a hard look and chides him,

“It’s not me, it’s Fury. He’s paranoid as it is and he hasn’t met you outside of your attempt to blow him up. He’s a smart man, Bucky, but he’s paranoid and thinking of our safety. He acknowledges that you’re Steve’s friend and all, but –”

“Forget that, what did Tony say?” Steve interrupts, narrowing his eyes. Natasha gives him a sour sweet look.

“Maybe if you both would let me finish, I could tell you,” she scolds, crossing her arms. They stare at her silently and she continues when satisfied: “Tony stood up for you. He said any incidents that happened were dealt with and that you didn’t purposely try to hurt anyone. He said it’s gotten a lot better and we’ve got the situation under control.”

“And then what?” Steve asks with slightly bated breath.

“He wants to visit,” Natasha huffs, “Which puts him at risk. He’s supposed to be dead for a reason.”

“And what did Tony say to that?” Steve asks after an awkward pause in the conversation.

“He said yes,” Natasha says, rolling over on her back to look at them upside-down. “He couldn’t say no. Besides, this was the first Tony had heard from him since he ‘died’. He was somewhat in shock.”  

“Great,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “When’s he coming over?”

“Today,” Natasha says as if it doesn’t matter. She smirks at both of them as she scans them quickly. “Better get some shirts on.” She rolls off the bed and goes to the door. Putting a hand on the doorframe, she pauses, waiting for Lucy the kitten to catch up with her before leaving.

Steve and Bucky wait until she’s gone to roll out of bed on their respective sides.

“She’s right,” Steve says. “We should probably get going. Fury shows up when he wants to and I don’t want to be caught off guard. I’m taking a shower first, unless you want to.”

“Be quick,” Bucky says shortly. He seems distracted now, just as Natasha had seemed when she first came in. He puts on his shirt backwards and sits on the edge of the bed playing with the ends of his hair on the side of his head that he didn’t cut it short. It looks a bit odd now, with one side of his head with long hair to his shoulders and the other side almost the length he had in 1944, but more messily cut. His hands are still scarred from breaking the mirror a few days ago, and his metal arm still creaks from the glass Tony hasn’t had a chance to get out of it yet. He’s a mess and neither of them has noticed until now.

Steve watches him for a minute with concern before shutting the bathroom door behind him and starting the water. While he strips, he begins to notice the scars and imperfections on his own skin, caused by the unavoidable Bucky situation around him. He has scars on his arms from where Bucky has accidentally scraped him with glass from the metal arm, and bruises on his shins from where Bucky kicked him in the middle of the night. Sound sleeper or not, Bucky has always been a kicker at night. His hair is dirty from not washing it in several days, just because he hasn’t cared enough to do so. His face has gotten scruffy from not shaving, the circles under his eyes darker from the inability to relax and sleep. His fingernails are shortened from picking at them nervously, the scrapes on the back of his hand taking longer to heal because he picks at the scabs. And no one’s mentioned it, not even Natasha, who is blunt for good reason when she has to be. No one told the two that they’re falling to ruin trying to take care of each other and not themselves and neither have cared about hygiene outside of the essential brushing of teeth and deodorant.

Steve sighs exasperatedly and steps into the shower, letting the warm water soothe his excited thoughts, if only for a few minutes. He closes his eyes, water dripping down his face, and just stands there for the first minute of his shower, feeling his muscles slowly relaxing. Then he picks up the shampoo and soap and starts the real work, and five minutes later, he feels better than he has in a while. He feels cleaner and lighter and fresher and happier and ready, for once, for a good day. It has to be a good day. He doesn’t think he can last another bad one.

When he steps out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, Bucky is still sitting on the edge of the bed where Steve left him. Steve frowns and goes to sit next to him. He puts a tentative hand on Bucky’s shoulder and asks,

“Hey, Bucky, you okay?” Bucky gives him a blank look and murmurs,

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

Steve’s face blanches and he shakes his friend quickly. “Bucky, no, you can’t forget, you can’t, not today. You can’t do this to me. Bucky!” Bucky manages to hold the blank look for a second longer before he cracks an easy grin and says,

“Just kidding!” Relief washes over Steve, but also annoyance (and slight amusement). He smacks Bucky upside the head and scolds,

“That’s not funny!” He leans on his knees as he takes a deep breath and says, “Dammit, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Bucky laughs a little and says, “Or an asthma attack, in your case.” Steve looks at him incredulously and tries really hard not to laugh.

“If you singlehandedly give me asthma again, I will personally throw you off the top of the tower.” Bucky smacks his back playfully, though with the full force of his metal hand it propels Steve off the bed and onto his face, with only a towel protecting his modesty.

“Oops,” Bucky says, only half-apologetically, “Sorry, Steve.” Steve grumbles mutinously as he stands up and pulls his towel up with him.

“Go take a shower, you useless hunk of meat,” he growls playfully, unable to keep a straight face.

“Meat and metal, sweet heart,” Bucky teases, “Meat and metal.”


	16. Chapter 16

Nick Fury arrives at ten o’clock in the morning on the dot. Everyone else had been notified about a half an hour before his arrival, and no one seems bothered about it besides Steve and Bucky.

After Bucky’s cleaned himself up and before Fury shows up, Steve makes Jarvis call Tony to meet with them in the main kitchen downstairs. When they do, Steve explains the situation with the glass in Bucky’s arm and Tony agrees to help clean it out, despite Bucky’s distrustful stare for the entire procedure. It proves to be fairly easy, as Tony figures out a way to loosen the plates in his arm so he can get between them with tweezers and then later a small vacuum to suck up any glass dust remaining.

Clint and Natasha meet them outside Tony’s lab when he finishes and steer Bucky into a room Tony has set up for haircuts, makeup, and the like. Upon questioning, they tell him to shut up and sit down and Steve to stand aside. Thor, who is already in the room by Natasha’s request, looks extremely uncomfortable and slightly confused as to what he’s doing.

“Thor,” Clint says, putting a hand on his shoulder like he’s about to say something very important. “You Asgardians have _fabulous_ hair. Would it be too much to ask for you to make Bucky’s hair as fabulous as your own?” Thor stares at him for a minute before replying,

“I don’t understand what you want me to do.”

“Can you cut his hair?” Natasha asks with a razor blade between her teeth as she makes Bucky sit down. “I’ll do his face; you can cut his hair so it’s even. We don’t want him to look like a raving lunatic when Fury comes over.” When Bucky opens his mouth to complain, Natasha just winks at him and that shuts him up, though more out of surprise than anything.

Clint puts a pair of scissors in Thor’s hand. “Thanks, man, it means a lot.” Thor stares at the scissors and then at Clint and Bucky before saying dumbly,

“Okay, I’ll…do my best.” Steve is trying to hold back laughter at the whole spectacle. Clint and Natasha have gone above and beyond to make Bucky look as normal as they can manage. Then Thor starts to braid the long strands of Bucky’s hair together until Clint smacks his hand away and tells him just to cut it. Bucky makes them stop while he instructs Thor specifically to cut most of it except for one piece at the very front that he can make a small braid. Thor smiles at him and winks when Clint and Natasha roll their eyes.

Clint, meanwhile, is taking some cover up to the inside of Bucky’s flesh arm to hide the scars and doing an excellent job of making it look clean but natural. Bucky’s face is free of stubble now, and Clint quickly adds more cover up to hide the dark circles under his eyes. He wipes some under Steve’s eyes too for good measure. Thor finishes with a remarkably good haircut and is happily braiding the one piece of Bucky’s hair when Jane walks into the room with Pepper.

They both look a little surprised, and Jane raises an eyebrow at Thor braiding Bucky’s hair.

“Do I want to know?” Pepper asks finally. Natasha sticks her tongue in her cheek and shakes her head.

“Not much to know,” Steve pipes up. “They’re getting ready for a show, I think.”

“I can see that,” Pepper says amusedly. “Come on, Jane.”

~

When Fury arrives, he’s silent for the first few seconds, staring blankly at Bucky as though daring him to move. Bucky just lifts an eyebrow at him finally, as if to ask ‘What?’ and Fury chuckles.

“My grandfather told me stories about you two,” he says with a slight smirk on his face, shaking Steve and then Bucky’s hand. “Amazing what you did.” Steve is…surprised to say the least, as Fury’s never mentioned this before.

“Thank…you, sir?” Bucky says tentatively, as though determined to speak very little or not at all.

“At ease, soldier,” Fury says easily, waving his hand dismissively at Bucky, reminding Steve of his own first encounter with Fury. “You look stiff as a board.” Bucky relaxes his shoulders immediately and seems embarrassed by doing so, looking sheepishly at the floor. Steve knows the feeling. The first time he met Fury was somewhat the same – he’s intimidating, but not yet in charge of you, and you don’t know what to make of him. Do you obey or do you treat him as an equal and ask ‘Why are you telling me what to do’?

Fury eyes Bucky’s little braid with a little amusement and then his eyes drift over the rest of the Avengers, who are all standing with their arms crossed or hands on hips defensively, save for Steve, Sam and Bucky.

“For Chrissakes, Natasha, I’m not here on official inspection – I’m here to check in. It’s not like I could do anything to you all if I disapprove.”

Natasha regards him almost coldly and says, “Since you’re aware I was listening in on that conversation, you should know I heard everything, and you know exactly that you can do so much damage if you wanted to, SHIELD down or not.” For emphasis she spares Bucky a quick glance.

Fury looks genuinely hurt. “I’m not here to do anything –”

“Look, I get it. He shot you. Almost killed you. You want to make sure we’re okay. But considering you were all for SHIELD’s preventive security measures, you have to admit it’s not a far-fetched idea that you could be here for preventive purposes now. Whether you’re in charge or not, Fury, you still hold a lot of power over a lot of people and you want to take care of them by making sure they don’t get hurt by someone who’s potentially…unstable.” Bucky resists the urge to laugh and Steve elbows him. This is serious, and it is blatantly obvious Natasha’s thought of what she wanted to say beforehand.

“For the record,” Fury says defensively, “I was not for those security measures once I realized what they were going to be used for.” Natasha looks unimpressed.

“Yes, when you realized they were going to be used for exactly what you intended them for, except against the wrong people. Your people instead of their people. What else you got?”

“I’m not here to fight with you, I come in peace. What else do you want me to say?”

“That nothing, no matter what, that you see, hear, or think leaves this tower. Or we’ll all have something to say about it. Buckster is under our protection, and he does not answer to you, or anyone.” Natasha crosses her arms indisputably and narrows her eyes again, while Steve regards the exchange nervously. Fury looks both injured and slightly annoyed, while Bucky looks slightly confused, if grateful for the protection. Steve can tell he’s a little out of it, for good reason, until suddenly he throws himself headfirst into the conversation:

“Fury, from what I’ve come to understand about everyone here – Clint, Tony, Pepper, Doctor Banner, Thor, Jane, Sam, Natasha and…Steve – we protect each other. I might be new to the group, but I’m more than willing to learn how to do what they do. They’re heroes, and I’ll be the first to admit I’m not one...I might even be a villain, but I’m doing everything in my power to deserve their company and their kindness. I don’t know what I ever did in the first place to deserve their forgiveness, their compassion, their loyalty, like this. I didn’t ask for it. Hell, I’m sure there’s a time I didn’t even want it. I don’t want to impose on anybody, and I’m not here to hurt them. Don’t take me away from them.” His eyes are pleading, but also firm, as though he’s preparing to defend himself from whatever Fury wants to do, which so far, is unclear. Fury takes a second to heavily sigh and put his head on one hand.

“Alright, people,” Fury says, glaring at all of them with one eye, “Look. I admit I was coming over here to check on Barnes to see if he was really as recovered as you all think he is. I’m not sorry for trying to protect the last line of defense we have at the moment, seeing as SHIELD is indefinitely down. We are _very_ vulnerable right now and the last thing I needed was for some super assassin to start taking out my team. No offense, Barnes.” He pauses to acknowledge Bucky, who looks down and away, his face tense.

“I’m not here to take anybody away from anybody. It’s not like I could if I wanted to anyway.” Clint snorts, but doesn’t meet Fury’s eyes – or eye, rather. “I need you to trust me. HYDRA is still out there, barely. They’re not as strong as they were, but they’re out there. And they know you’re a threat. _All_ of you are. And they’re going to want their asset back.” He points at Bucky, who furrows his brow and crosses his arms. Then he slowly turns his gaze to Tony and gives him a pointed look, who suddenly realizes what Fury’s getting at.

“Jarvis, stop recording,” Tony says quietly. “Everyone else, come with me.”

Steve grabs Bucky’s arm to pull him next to him again, and Bucky doesn’t argue. Jane keeps close to Thor, Pepper follows right behind Tony, and Natasha and Clint seem joined at the shoulders. Sam lifts an eyebrow at Steve as if to ask if he should come too, and Steve nods. When everyone files into a very small room with padded walls and no windows and one door, Tony gestures for them to sit on the bench that is attached to all four walls, and everyone else does as he does. He closes the door and locks it with a key he has hung around his neck that no one noticed before. Then he sits and addresses the group:

“This room was designed for complete and utter secrecy should we ever need it in Avengers tower. To convene and plan without anyone being able to look in. It doesn’t look like much, but this room is soundproof, and behind the padded walls is a foot of steel, and the door basically glues itself shut. This is the only place Jarvis can’t reach me – or us – at all, simply because if his system became compromised for some reason, we would have a place to go without him listening in.” Tony sighs, putting his head down in his hands for a second and scratching his head with no lack of annoyance. “And it seems for some reason we’re going to need it for a while. There are no cameras, microphones, whatever else anywhere, and the only technology in here is the mechanism that glues the door shut and the trapdoor beneath that table. He gestures to the wooden table that looks like the entrance to some secret staircase at the center of the room. “Under this room is an escape pod of sorts that can fit exactly seven people. I was not expecting there to be additions to the group, and unfortunately, I didn’t really plan on it. I made it as small as possible without drawing attention to it. This should be the only way to access it.”

Steve counts off in his head the people that Tony would have thought to fit in that plane. _Me, himself, Natasha, Clint, Banner, Thor and…Pepper._ He hopes they won’t have to use it anytime soon because he’d have to fight for an extra spot. He casts a worried glance at Bucky, who’s staring at him, obviously having the same realization. Tony did not plan for this. Bucky discreetly covers Steve’s left hand with his right as if to say ‘It’ll be fine, we won’t need it, and it’ll all be okay…’ Even though they know, in the reality of this world they live in, it’s more than likely that if HYDRA’s on their tails, they could be in more danger than they realize.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI to you guys, the gap between posts is going to be because I'm working really hard to make these next chapters even better with character voice accuracy and all of that. That being said, here are some changes I made:
> 
> Past tense instead of present tense.
> 
> I'm trying to stick with third person limited instead of omniscent because it can get muddled if I try to keep up with the latter. I will do my best to make sure you guys aren't confused about whose head you're in at any one time. Let me know if it gets confusing, but it should only be switching between Bucky and Steve.
> 
> This chapter is something of a filler, but the next ones will be awesome. These next chapters should be super fun. Here are some hint-y words: punk, dance, and boom. Lots of boom. Much wow. Very boom.

“So talk, Fury,” Tony continued, bringing Steve and Bucky back to the present. Fury spoke quickly in a low voice,

“I needed a reason to call Tony to arrange a visit here. HYDRA’s still out there and they still want me and all of you dead. Barnes was the obvious pretense to take – they know how paranoid I am. Besides, I can’t say I wasn’t worried about him. Sorry, again.” Bucky made a vague gesture with his left hand and Fury continued: “I didn’t realize how deeply embedded they were into SHIELD, and as you all know, they were fused together from the start. Those who noticed were picked off.” Tony’s glance flicked to Bucky’s and they both looked away quickly. “What I didn’t realize is that because Tony is who he is – not Tony Stark so much as Howard Stark’s son – they’ve been keeping an especially close eye on you. And a closer eye on you than I could ever imagine.” Natasha lifted a brow at him and the mood in the room was something along the lines of _Get to the point, what is the danger and how can I fight it?_

“Maria Hill and I have been doing extensive work, with the help of some younger SHIELD agents who proved themselves more than worthy of my trust, ever since HYDRA and SHIELD crumbled. We needed to find out where else HYDRA had implanted themselves, and what bases we could try to eradicate while we still had the upper hand. Which wasn’t much, given the circumstances. We did, however, find some bugs in Stark’s systems.”

“Impossible,” Tony said firmly, “Jarvis runs the tightest knit security tests every single day, and I’ve started to have him do it three times a day when SHIELD fell. Nothing can get through that system, not without him picking up on it.” Fury glanced at him impatiently.

“Well, something did get through that Jarvis didn’t recognize because it’s always been part of his system. I suspect HYDRA made sure they had a way into your system if ever they needed to use it. And now they do. And we think they’ve been using it ever since SHIELD fell. And if I’m right, it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume they can easily get a hold of every waking moment you’ve ever spent in Jarvis’ reach, recorded with video and audio, in high definition.”

Pepper suddenly turned very red, while Tony huffed and grumbled under his breath, “Not fair…my system…hacked into it…God dammit…”

“Can’t we just…turn off Jarvis?” Steve suggested quietly. Everyone turned to look at him, and Tony scoffed derisively.

“No, Captain Popsicle, you can’t just turn off Jarvis. He runs with the building, so in order to turn him off I would have to shut down everything, including security, and then this tower would probably look like the Twin Towers within the hour.” Bucky stood at Tony’s jab at Steve, his jaw working and his fists clenched. Tony rolled his eyes. “What are you gonna do, hit me? You’re just as bad as he is, for God’s sakes, get your boyfriend under control, Rogers…” Bucky lunged and Steve grabbed him around the middle before he could move and forced him back down.

“Stop it!” Steve growled. “He’s not worth it.”

“Worth several billion,” Tony smirked.

“You can shut the hell up, or I won’t hold him back next time.” Steve glowered at Tony. “In fact, I might join in. If we’re gonna play the old man card, then I can tell you that you ‘youngsters’ don’t know how to take a hint. _Seriously_ , Tony.”

“Or what, you’ll sic your guard dog on me – OW!” Pepper stepped on Tony’s foot hard with the sharp edge of her heels, and he cursed, “You’re going to break my toes at the rate you’re going!”

“Well, if you’d stop running your mouth, you might be able to use them again someday,” she snapped. “Go on, Nick.”

“As I was saying,” Fury said with a not-so-casual interested glance at Bucky, “Jarvis has most likely been compromised. If you can’t control him, you can’t be in this building.”

“But this is my baby,” Tony whined, running a hand through his hair with another petulant huff.

“Tony,” Natasha said sharply.

“I know,” he pouted. “Fine. But what do you expect us to do? Where do you expect us to go?”

“You don’t have to go anywhere. Just…lay low until we have a better idea of the situation. But you can’t be here.”

“Should we go back to my apartment?” Steve offered. Fury shook his head.

“Any apartment you have is bugged or will be bugged within twenty four hours of you renting it. It’s a pattern with HYDRA to be very stealthy and very quick, especially when they need to keep track of their favorite super heroes. You need to keep moving.”

“Like, ‘on the run’ moving?” Jane asked.

“Like keep a low profile and don’t attract any attention to yourself moving, but yeah, sort of.”

“That’s stupid,” Natasha snorted suddenly.

“Would you care to tell us why?” Fury asked tersely, lifting an eyebrow at her.

“Well, if they’re going to keep finding us anyway, what’s the point of moving around?”

“Did you miss the part about HYDRA wanting you dead?” Fury snapped.

“They wanted us dead before and they couldn’t do it. They had us all right where they wanted us, and they couldn’t kill anyone,” Natasha said evenly.  

“In case you forgot, a single person nearly killed Steve and I, and you and Sam were next on the list,” Fury said, avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

“For one thing, that one person was an unusually skilled assassin. And he couldn’t even manage to kill you. Most agents aren’t even that competent –”

“Excu-use me,” Bucky said loudly over Natasha and Fury’s raising voices. “I know you’re all being very sensitive to avoid the elephant in the room, but as said elephant, I would like you to know that I was very capable, but was prevented from my full potential by Steve, who –”

“I think,” Thor roared, “That we should all stop talking. We will do what we did when Loki invaded – band together as comrades and fight this threat together. We cannot run.” Jane glanced at him nervously and then at Pepper, who rolled her eyes and put her head in her hands.

“I agree with Thor,” Banner said, lifting his voice. “It’s not as though we’re not capable.”

“You don’t understand, they will capture you, torture you, run tests on you, and dissect you,” Fury shouted over them. “You can fight them all you want, but God help you if you get captured.”

“…hunt down their bases and blow them up…”

“…SMASH THEM TO PULP…”

“…blow it up…”

“…maybe we should listen to Fury…?”

“…almost killed Steve…almost killed a lot of people…”

“…exterminate HYDRA…”

“HEY!” Pepper shouted, standing on her bench. Tony is pale, as Pepper went an alarming shade of orange and started to glow. Everyone took the cue to shut up for a second, while Pepper prompted, “All in favor of running, say aye. All in favor of fighting say nay.”

A chorus of ayes and nays (but mostly nays) rang around the room, and Fury sat back against the wall and shut his eyes, praying for patience probably. Pepper sat down with a self-satisfied air about her. Jane looked at her gratefully.

“You wanna fight? Fine. But once you’re captured, you’re on your own. We can save you, but when you come out of there, you’ll never be the same. HYDRA is sick, and now they’re mad. And if they get you back –” He paused to look at Bucky. “Well…I hope your mind and body are as strong as your spirit. I don’t know what they would do to you, big guy.”

Bucky crossed his arms and glared at the ceiling. A tense silence settled in the room, and Steve reached out to gently rest his hand on the crook of Bucky’s arm. Bucky flinched, the way he used to, and Steve sighed.

 “Thanks, Fury. Thanks a lot…” Steve breathed, leaning his own head back against the wall. The room was quiet for a minute before they hear a strange noise.

“Mrrrrow?”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter when you know what starts to hit the fan. I know the spacing's kind of weird, but just bear with me :) Enjoy!

All eyes went to the noise, and there they saw Natattack standing there with a superior look on her face – if cats can have such expressions, and they do – and she gazed at them all curiously. Natasha’s mouth dropped open and she asked quietly,

 

“When did she get in here?” At the same time, Fury asked,

 

“Where did you get that kitten?”

 

“Uh,” Tony said awkwardly, “The pet store?” Fury got down one knee, picking up the kitten gently and turning her over in his hands. On her front right paw was one toe dyed bright blue, a marker they all missed.

 

“These went missing from our labs a month ago,” Fury said through gritted teeth. “Where did you get them?”

 

“You know, usually that sounds like the kind of thing I would do,” Tony admitted, “But I swear I didn’t this time. You can even ask the chick down at the pet store.”

 

“Who?” Fury asked, looking more alarmed than he had before.

 

“Uh, freckles, an alarming shade of red hair, kind of a permanent sneer on her face….looked about twenty, her shirt was too small…”

 

“Tony,” Pepper growled.

 

“Hey, no, I noticed because it was bright red – it had black straps and stood out like a Christmas tree. No need to be jealous.” Pepper smacked him lightly. 

 

“Sin…” Fury mumbled under his breath.

 

“What?” Tony asked.

 

“Nothing. The kittens were test subjects and someone took them. That one –” He pointed at Natattack. “-Can walk through walls. Don’t ask me how, the science wasn’t my thing. She just can. How many do you have?”

 

“Uh…eight, I think,” Tony said, frowning at Fury. "The real question is, what were you doing experimenting on cats?"

 

Fury ignored him and started counting off on his fingers. “The white one is blind but has x-ray vision of some sort…the pale orange one can imitate sounds near perfectly…the black and white one can levitate…the grey one can live without food or water for longer than should be possible…the dark orange one can breathe underwater…the blue one can change colors…and the tortoiseshell can understand exactly what we’re saying…”

 

“And the point of this was…what?” Clint asked. “Experimenting on cats? Really?”

 

“It was an idea – genetically engineered superpowers.”

 

“Do you have any idea what a bad idea that is?” Steve interjected sharply. "Didn't you learn from Project Insight?" Fury lifted a brow at him.

 

“If I recall correctly, Cap, all due respect, you were the product of a secret government experiment.”

 

“Yes, and I’m thankful for that, but to successfully create actual superpowers is a horrible idea. What are you gonna do, put it on the market and give everyone superpowers? Are you going to put the government in a position to make 'superhero laws' like gun control?”

 

“Is that such a bad thing?”

 

“No, but you don’t know what it does, what the side effects could be…I mean, aging, growing, what if someone takes more than one?”

 

“These would only be for the military…”

 

“No!” Steve said, standing and slamming his hand on the table. Everyone jumped a little, except for Bucky, who looked extremely satisfied and not at all surprised. That’s my boy…

 

“Dammit, didn’t you learn the first time that fighting fire with fire is only going to make more fire? Your intentions are good…I mean, for Chrissakes, Nick, I mean it, but you have to stop trying to outdo the worst. Giving people superpowers is a close second to the worst idea you’ve ever had. The first would be those damn helicarriers, and look where that got you. Almost into the wrong hands and we all almost died. Everything you ever fought was almost wiped off the face of the earth because you’re paranoid and you're trying to get ahead of a game that keeps leapfrogging you. ”

 

“Not to mention that someone already tried this whole artificially created super powers thing, and that didn’t go so well either,” Tony pitched in, gesturing at Pepper. She rolled her eyes.

 

“Well, obviously I can’t do anything about it now, can I?” Fury asked, exasperated.

 

“No, you can’t,” Steve said with satisfaction. “You asked me what we should do next, and this is what I think. No more.” He sat down next to Bucky and Bucky smacked him on the leg appreciatively. Steve flushed slightly with amusement, but didn't look at his friend. Bucky chuckled quietly and Steve smiled sidelong at him. Natasha noticed the interaction and smirked, and Bucky stuck his tongue out at her.

 

“Okay, but what are we going to do with flying cats?” Clint asked. “I mean, they’re cute and all, but I’m more of a dog person myself…”

 

“Nothing right now. Look, fighting or not, you guys can’t stay here. We need to leave now, or do you not understand the gravity of the situation here?” Fury replied impatiently.

 

“Could Thor take us to Asgard?” Jane asked suddenly. Thor shook his head violently from side to side.

 

“Why not?” Tony asked. “It’s a valid point. It’s not like HYDRA could reach us there. Or anyone.” Thor gave Jane a pained look, and she looked down at her hands and mumbled her apologies. He stroked her hair lightly as he explained to them,

 

“It’s not that. My father is not very sympathetic to Midguardians – not that he doesn’t like you, but rather he likes you from afar. Up close, he is dismissive and sometimes harsh. Especially given the circumstances of my late mother’s death, he will not be pleased to see any of you. It is a possibility, but it must be the very last resort. He will only allow you in the most dire of circumstances." 

 

“I'd say this qualifies...” Tony grumbled, but at Pepper's expression he keeps silent. Neither of them wanted to be smited by an angry Odin.

 

“We understand, Thor,” Natasha said kindly, petting Natattack absentmindedly when she jumped up onto the seat next to her.

 

“Thank you,” Thor nodded his head. “Now let us leave as quickly as we are able. I do not want to leave us vulnerable in this wretched tower.”

 

“Hey!” Tony growled. “Watch it.”

 

“Let’s go then,” Fury says, sounding relieved, “There is a helicopter outside preparing to take you to an airport to fly you to California.”

 

“You can’t be serious,” Natasha groaned.

 

“Are you coming or not? We're getting the hell out of here,” Fury snapped, “Your options are real slim, Natasha.”

 

“You cannot make me talk like a ‘Valley Girl’,” Natasha said with a scowl on her face.

 

“You don’t have to, just come on,” Fury said tersely. Tony opened the door to let them out, and on their way to the elevator, they found themselves barred, blocked by a sheer metal wall in front of the elevator door. Tony slammed his hand against it, apparently sensing a problem immediately.

 

“Sir, it is advised that you do not leave the building,” Jarvis chimed, cheerful as ever. “We’re going into lockdown mode.”

 

“No, you are not. We are not in lockdown mode.”

 

“I have orders to the contrary, sir.”

 

“Well, I’m in charge here, you only take orders from me.”

 

“Sir, you told me to lockdown and not to reverse the process even if you told me to. I’m afraid we are going into lockdown and I cannot stop it without the password.”

 

“Well if I gave you the order, wouldn’t I know the password?” Tony growled at Jarvis.

 

“Of course, sir. What is the password?”

 

“Oh my God…” Tony rubs his face and looks very lost without Jarvis on his side. “Jarvis, please.”

 

“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t do anything without the password. You told me –”

 

“I know, I know, I know what I supposedly said…DAMMIT!” Steve’s hand flashed out and grabbed Tony’s arm before he could hit the wall again and hurt himself.

 

“Tony,” Steve enunciated, speaking very similarly to the way he spoke to Bucky when he was unresponsive, “Think. Suit up. We’re getting out of here.” Tony jarred himself back to reality, and his eyes lit up again.

 

“Right. Got it. Let’s go, people, let’s move!” He flicked his wrist to summon the Iron Man suit, which came rushing to meet him, and Thor summoned his hammer, while Steve felt lost without his shield, which he left back in his room and was now out of reach.

 

“Sir, there is a message for you,” Jarvis chimed in after a half an hour of scrambling for defenses.

 

“What?” Tony spat bitterly. 

 

“They say you have two hours to surrender or be destroyed.”

 

“Oh, well that’s great. Who says?”

 

“They.”

 

“Who?”

 

“They.”

 

“Do they have a name?”

 

“Not that they gave me, sir. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

 

“A machine is apologizing for our imminent death,” Bucky said suddenly, making Tony jump. “Very nice.” He stood behind Tony, having snuck up on him from behind. 

 

“Go tell the Star Spangled Man with a Plan, Ponytail, don’t tell me,” Tony said dismissively. Bucky sneered at him but walked in the other direction to tell the others. “Actually wait!”

 

Bucky paused without turning around and waited for Tony to continue.

 

“Tell them to take a vote.” Bucky turned on him with a strange look on his face.

 

“We’re not surrendering, Tony.”

 

“I’m not,” Tony said evenly. “That’s for damn sure. But I want to make sure everyone’s on the same page.”

 

“They are,” Bucky said, though he sounded a little unsure now. “Right?”

 

“Go find out!” Tony told him. “Go! Now!” Bucky scampered away in a way reminiscent of a dog with its tail between its legs. He found the others sitting on the edge of their seats in the lounge. Steve bounced his leg up and down impatiently and his gaze snapped to Bucky’s when he walked in.

 

“What happened?” Bucky’s face was a little pale and he looked shaken.

 

“We’re taking a vote,” he said, his voice unsteady. “Now.”

 

“On what?” Natasha asked. “Bucky, what happened?” Steve glanced at her gratefully. She seemed more concerned about Bucky than the danger at hand, which he appreciated.

 

“We have two hours,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Two hours to surrender or fight.”

 

“We’re fighting,” Natasha said, without giving the others a chance to speak. “There’s no good option here, but I’d rather go down fighting. I don’t want to know what they would do to me.” She avoided Bucky’s stare, and Steve thought he'd break the silence.

 

“Fighting,” he said firmly.

 

“Well actually,” Bucky said awkwardly. “The option wasn’t fighting. It was destruction. I figured you wouldn’t just lie down and die though. Just so we’re clear.” Another pregnant pause settled over the room and Fury laughed from the back.

 

“Destruction, my ass. You’re right, Barnes. We’re not going down without a fight.”

 

“Tony wants me to take a vote, so raise your hand if we’re fighting.” A flurry of hands shot up, in almost a bored manner, and it’s unanimous.

 

“Great,” Bucky said, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Clint snorted and commented,

 

“Yeah, I don’t know about you guys, but I really don’t want a metal limb.” Bucky gave Clint a hard look and flexed his metal arm. Clint just smirked and winked at him. Natasha smacked his arm with a tsk.

 

~

 

Steve watched Bucky leave the room a few minutes later to inform Tony that there weren’t surrendering, and he glanced at Natasha again, who looked just as worried. They both stood to follow and Steve waved her down. She glared at him silently and he rolled his eyes. Steve sat down and Natasha followed suit. Thor frowned at the exchange and Jane stared down at her hands anxiously. He took her hands in his and turned them over to look at them. She smiled painfully at him and he kissed the side of her head.

 

"Alright, enough sitting around," Clint said exasperatedly. "We have to have some sort of plan. What happened to your rescue helicopter, Fury?"

 

"No idea," Fury said, looking disgruntled.

 

"How about an escape plan?" Bruce asked. Everyone looked at him, as he hadn't said much all day. Bruce frowned and asked, "What? Any plan we make will go to hell in a hand basket anyway, so why not have a way out? It's not like we can all just jump out of the tower."

 

"So what do you suggest?" Sam asked, who was sitting next to Steve, quietly for the most part.

 

"Buddy up?" Bruce shrugged. Fury sighed and put his hand on his forehead, muttering something about 'second grade'.

 

"No, I'm serious," Bruce said evenly. "Some of us can fly and some of us can't. If worst comes to worse, we're going to have to get out somehow. And not in Tony's plane - I think we can all agree that's a horrible idea." Steve nodded mutely. If that plane doesn't fit Bucky, he wanted nothing to do with it.

 

"Not a bad idea," Steve said. "Sam, do you have your wings?"

 

"Nah, man, they're in my room. Outta reach."

 

"Same with my shield," Steve grumbled. "Thor, you've got Jane and Sam, then." Thor nodded.

 

"Tony's got Pepper, Bucky, and I," Steve listed off, counting who's left in his head.

 

"No frickin way," Bucky interrupted, back at the door with Tony.

 

"I am wounded, Tin Soldier," Tony said, pushing past him, not looking very wounded at all. Steve raised his eyebrows at Bucky. Trust me.

 

"Leaving me with Fury, Natasha, and Clint?" Bruce asked, laughing dryly.

 

"Can you hold them all?" Steve said. Bruce shrugged.

 

"Probably. If I don't drop them."

 

"Oh my God, Bruce," Natasha laughed into her hands. "I swear if you drop me, so help you…" Clint looked more apprehensive, casting nervous glances at Bruce and then Steve. Bruce grinned at her and said,

 

"Alright, if we're going to die, we might as well eat first."

 

"Yeah," Natasha said, wiping tears from her eyes and still smiling. "Good idea. You guys want grilled cheese?"

 

Bucky smiled and said, "Hell yeah, I do!" Natasha stood up and asked him to help her out. He pretended he didn't want to, but in the end he followed her  into the kitchen.

 

~

 

Natasha leaned against the counter after bringing the bread, cheese, and butter out of their respective homes. Bucky stared at her when she didn't move to do anything productive.

 

"What's up, 'Tasha?" asked Bucky, slightly uneasily. He was very affectionate of Natasha, but sometimes she scared him, even now.

 

"Put the butter in a pan and turn it on," she said simply.

 

"Uh...okay." He did what she said, albeit awkwardly, and asked, "So did you want to talk to me or am I just here...because?"

 

"You're here to make sandwiches," she shrugged. Bucky furrowed his brow. He was fairly certain there was more to this than he could see. Something was up. Natasha watched him carefully, and as it turned out, he wasn't bad at making grilled cheese. When he finished, he turned to look at her and crossed his arms.

 

"What are you looking for? I'm not going to grow another head anytime soon," he said impatiently. "I may not be as competent as an assassin as you may have hoped, but I'm not stupid enough not to recognize when a spy is suspicious."

 

"I'm not suspicious," Natasha said coolly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

 

"Don't lie to me," Bucky said through gritted teeth.

 

"You're burning something," she commented. Her calmness was annoying. She was hiding something, and Bucky didn't like it. He turned and flipped one of the sandwiches, which was completely blackened on one side.

 

"Natasha, seriously," Bucky said, his jaw twitching. Suddenly, she lunged at him, one hand on his neck and the other on his wrist. Bucky tried to twist out of her grip, but he couldn't do it without breaking her arm. "Natasha…?!" He kicked her feet out from under her and they both fell to the ground. She tried to pin him down, and instead of throwing her off, he put his metal arm in front of his neck protectively, and put his other hand on her shoulder to keep her away.

 

"Traitor!" she hissed in his face.

 

"What are you talking about?" he whined, extremely confused and slightly terrified. Did she think he did something? Tipped off HYDRA? Why would she think that?  I had nothing to do with it!

 

What are you doing? Quit whining and hit her back!

 

No!

 

Do it!

 

She's my friend.

 

Natasha hit him over the head with her fist and he frowned, gritting his teeth to stop from yelling. He grabbed both of her wrists at lightning speed and led her off of him gently, rolling her off of him. He pinned her down and she spat in his face.

 

"Hey!" He kept hold of her wrists and forced them down to her chest. "Stop it!" She sneered at him and he carefully pushed her back again when she pushed against him.

 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, before crying out in pain when she kneed him in the groin. "Why would you do that?"

 

Natasha didn't respond, and just wrapped her legs around his knees and tried to force them to roll over so she was on top again. She flipped them over successfully and wrenched her wrists free. She leapt up and kicked him in the side - once, twice, three times. He resisted the urge to grab her ankle and bring her tumbling down again - she might hit her head and crack her skull open. He stood up when he got the chance, his hands raised in front of him protectively.

 

"I'm not fighting you," he said, his eyes still wide and anxious. "Why are you doing this?"

 

"You're as bad as Steve," Natasha said with a smirk, putting her arms down and regarding him with an expression he didn't recognize. "Don't worry you passed."

 

"Passed what?"

 

"My test. You're good. Let's go."

 

"WHAT?"

 

"A test."

 

"Wait," Bucky paused, stopping Natasha from moving. "Why were you testing me?"

 

"Give me your arm."

 

"I don't…"

 

"Just do it."

 

"But -"

 

"Do you trust me?" Bucky stared at her incredulously.

 

"Well, five minutes ago I did. What was that for?" He rubbed the back of his head with a scowl where she'd hit him.

 

"It was a test. I was making sure you wouldn't break under pressure."

 

"Break what?" Bucky asked, still disgruntled, "Back into my programming? I think we've established I'm not going back there."

 

"You still get nightmares," Natasha said, her eyes wide like a curious cat. "It's still in there, somewhere. I just need to know I can trust you."

 

"Well, you can. No tests needed. At least none that involve slamming me against a wall." Natasha smirked again and Bucky felt more inclined to smack her than he had when she was actually hurting him. He felt somewhat like someone had stabbed him in the gut multiple times and then yelled at him for bleeding. He guessed that probably happened at least once with HYDRA. 

 

"If I wanted to hurt you, you'd be a lot more sore than you are now."  
 

"I am not sore," Bucky protested childishly, dropping his arm. He scowled at her and he might have imagined a brief regretful look on her face. Good. She should feel bad.

 

"Can I please see your arm?" she asked impatiently. He stuck out his metal arm with a sigh and she examined it quickly, turning it over and peeking under some of the joints. What could she possibly do to it?

 

"What are you looking for?" he asked, still annoyed. She let go of his arm and it swung to his side. He scowled again and her expression softened from the mask she'd had on before. He hoped her expression now was sincere and not just a circus trick. He needed Natasha to care, because for her not to would mean he didn't know her at all. He needed her to be sorry for not trusting him.

 

"Fury wanted to check up on you. I told him no. He told me you might have a tracker you weren't aware of. I thought that was fair. I might as well have killed two birds with one stone and checked both your mind and your arm."

 

"Your efforts are not appreciated," Bucky growled. "You could have just said something." He walked away and accidentally ripped the kitchen door off the hinges, which he hadn't done in a while. He cursed under his breath and threw it to the side, casting a hurt glance back at Natasha before leaving her alone with the sandwiches. She sighed and cracked her wrists as she watched him leave.

 

~

 

Bucky sat down in front of Steve when he got back to the lounge, still wearing a heavy scowl.

 

"You're not going to sit in a chair?" Steve asked, slightly amused. "What did she do to you?"

 

"She freaked out on me. I dunno. Something Fury said," he spat, glaring at the man who looked half asleep on one of the lounge chairs. Steve glanced at Natasha when she walked in, giving her a hard look. She shrugged and set down the plate with a mountain of grilled cheese on it.

 

"Food," she announced shortly, before grabbing two for herself. Bucky handed Steve five sandwiches before grabbing the same amount for himself. Everyone joined in and soon the plate was decimated and Tony was groaning for more.

 

"Nice job, Nat," Clint commented, "Really great." He licked his fingers while Bucky rolled his eyes. Steve put a hand on his head, sensing Bucky's annoyance and Bucky simply stared at the floor.

 

"What time ya got, Tony?" Steve called. Tony glanced at his watch, which was counting down.

 

"Half an hour," he said. "Anybody want to write their wills?"

 

"That's not funny," Steve grumbled, and Bucky smirked up at him.

 

"Yeah 'cos we have no one to write them to. I don't, at least, 'cos all my stuff is yours. So if you die, I guess you can just throw all my stuff out," he said quietly.

 

"I won't die," Steve said, ruffling Bucky's hair, making note of how much rougher it is than it used to be. It was something weird he noticed, but Bucky's hair used to be soft, and now it's course and strangely shaped. He played with the little braid Bucky had hanging down in front of his face absentmindedly, and Bucky leaned back against Steve's knees.

 

As everyone got increasingly nervous, they started sitting closer together, or at least they did in small groups (except for Fury of course). Pepper pecked Tony on the lips at the twenty minute mark, Thor and Jane were sitting so closely that she was almost on his lap, and Natasha and Clint, though sitting in different chairs, had their legs draped over each other's laps.  Bruce was awkwardly by himself, though Tony walked up behind him and gave him a noogie, wrapping his arm around Bruce's neck. Bruce flapped his arms for a minute, not really sure what was going on, and then he laughed when he realized who it was. Bucky leaned against Steve's knees still, but Steve was now petting his hair at a constant, anxious pace, and Bucky's metal arm was drawn back to hold Steve's free hand. Fury was sitting up straight now, no longer tired, and glared at the watch on Tony's wrist as though it was personally at fault for their situation.

 

"Five minutes," Tony said in a flat voice, and Bucky squeezed Steve's hand a little tighter. Steve started petting his hair a little harder, and then he asked suddenly,

 

"Can you feel anything? In your hand, what can you feel?" Bucky frowned at him, and everyone watched and listened because they had nothing better to pay attention to.

 

"Steve, we've been over this…"

 

"I know, but I never really get a straight answer."

 

"There isn't a clear answer," Bucky said, still frowning. He flexed each of his fingers, as though testing them against Steve's hand, like he still didn't really know the answer.

 

"I can feel pressure," he started off slowly. "It depends how familiar I am with whatever I'm touching. I don't feel pain because that wouldn't make sense, but I know if something's not working, so it's kind of like pain. If I know something really well, I can feel texture. If I know something like the back of my hand, I can sense heat, but again, no pain if it's too hot or anything. If it's a person, I can feel a pulse from almost anywhere on their body." He looked up at Steve, only seeing him in that moment. "What does it feel like?"

 

"What?"

 

"The metal." Steve flushed, and everyone continued to stare curiously at their exchange. Natattack wandered into the room and rubbed against Bucky's leg, making him jump and swat her away. Steve tested his fingers against Bucky's metal joints the same way Bucky had before because it was so familiar he tested for what's really different about it.

 

"It's cool - not as warm as your skin, but not cold either. Just a little colder than room temperature. Smooth, even the spaces between the joints. Hard, obviously. It's very neat, organized. Subtle. Sometimes I forget it's there."

 

"Yeah, me too," Bucky laughed. Tony cleared his throat abruptly, and Bucky's heart caught. Time's up.

 

"Battle stations," Tony croaked, clearing his throat again. "Let's do this."

 

Mostly Steve was scared because he didn't know what to expect. He squeezed Bucky's hand one last time before letting go and standing, when suddenly Jarvis's voice came over the speakers.

 

"Sir, they have a message for you."

 

"What is it? Last chance to wave a white flag?"

 

"They would like to take Mr. Barnes into custody."

 

"What for?" Jarvis is silent for a minute before replying,

 

"Танец , зима солдат." Bucky started to stand, and at the order, he collapsed.

 

"Bucky…" Steve breathed, "No, no, no, no…" He knelt down beside his friend and turned him over onto his back. When Steve touched him, Bucky stood, in a jerky fashion, as though being pulled up by strings. He started to wake up while he did so, his eyes dull and then alert.

 

"What's going on?" Jane asked, edging closer to Thor, who's brow as furrowed as he stood up with Jane by his side, backing away from Bucky. Steve blinked a few times, as he watched Bucky raise his arms above his head and start moving around in a circle, almost...dancing. His eyes were wide and scared now, but apparently he had no control over his movements, including his mouth. He tripped over the end of his sweats, and when he stumbled, he gritted his teeth and groaned, as though shocked with electricity. Steve grinded his teeth and said,

 

"They gave him an order and they're making him dance." His whole body shook with anger and Sam reached out to steady him. He put a hand on Steve's shoulder, and Steve took a deep breath.

 

"Bucky, you don't have to dance," he said slowly, trying to keep his voice even. "They can't make you do anything." Bucky didn't seem to hear him, and continued moving jerkily in a circle, his arms bent at a strange angle. Natasha reached out to touch him and Steve muttered a warning,

 

"Nat, don't…" When she tapped his shoulder, Clint pulled her back quickly. Bucky moaned,

 

"Noooo…" before he arched his back and screamed silently, tortured by a force only he could see, his body writhing and his face contorting in pain. It was grotesque to watch, and most of them looked away. Except for Steve. He couldn’t stop watching, frozen in place in horror. 

 

"Bucky -" Steve wanted to help him now more than ever, to hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but he couldn't because it hurt him. Make it stop, please make it stop…

 

"Bucky, Стоп! Выпуска! Вы сделали!..." Natasha started spouting orders in fluent Russian, but nothing worked. Bucky went back to dancing, now exhausted until finally Jarvis said,

 

"Вниз , зима солдат." Bucky dropped like a rock, panting on the ground and swaying while he tried to hold himself up on his knees and elbows. Steve dropped next to him, waiting for Bucky to respond.

 

"If we can make him dance," Jarvis said, "We can make him do so much more. Give us Sergeant Barnes. You have five minutes."

 

"No," Steve said quickly, shielding Bucky as his first instinct.

 

"Steve, no one's taking him away from you," Natasha said in a bored voice. "You don't have to do that." Steve stopped crouching over Bucky and glanced around the room. Bucky just groaned and fell sideways into Steve. Steve caught him and held him and asked,

 

"What do they want him for? He's not useful to them anymore." Tony stared hard at Bucky for a minute and suggested,

 

"I'm surprised they need him at all, but they do...the serum. Your serum." He points at Steve and then gasped. "No, they need his because his made him more suggestible. So did the torture - electricity, water, whatever - but the serum made him flexible. Yours wasn’t flexible, just functional. And besides, he's still somewhat useful if he can follow those basic orders. If they can't get all of us, they'll take the most useful one, right? They can't use us for a while - they'd have to break us down first and it'll take a hell of a long time."

 

"Long time for me too," Bucky growled weakly, "I'm never going back."

 

"No offense, but they just turned you into their personal dancing monkey," Tony pointed out. "Nothing against you. I'm just saying."

 

"Fine, so what do we do?" Steve snapped.

 

"What we've prepared to do," Tony said easily, "We won't let them take him." Steve shot him a grateful look.

 

"This ain't Lord of the Flies, Rogers," Clint said, winking at Steve. Bucky clung on to Steve's arms before pushing himself into a standing position, still leaning heavily on Steve.

 

"You guys need to either get rid of me or lock me up because if they do that again I could really hurt you," he rasped. "And I really don't want to do that."

 

"You're not going to hurt anybody," Steve said firmly, "And we are not giving you up." Fury looked like he was going to comment, but a harsh look from Sam shut him up.

 

"Бой , зима солдат," Jarvis spat across the speakers, and Bucky froze again, making everyone else in the room tense. He blinked, and slowly, ever so slowly, Steve watched helplessly as the sanity drained from his face.

 

"Bucky, please no…" he pleaded, grabbing Bucky's hands. Bucky swatted his hands away and focused on him with a look Steve hadn't seen for a year and hoped never to see again. He propelled himself upwards in a roundhouse kick and hit Steve hard in the side of the face with the outside edge of his foot. If he'd been wearing boots, that would have hurt more. Steve tackled Bucky to the ground and pinned him there, just as the first explosive hit the tower.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the tab formatting might be a little weird - bear with me, my friends - you'll like this chapter :)

Everyone was thrown back except for Thor and Bucky by the explosion. Jane clung to Thor with all her strength and he shielded her with his body. Steve flew back with his arms outstretched towards Bucky, but Bucky didn't see. He was too busy fighting with himself. _Fight them - don't fight them - mission - friends…_

Natasha recovered quickly and ran up behind Bucky with two Widow Bites and shocked him on either side of his neck. Bucky yelled and dropped like a rock, though getting a good smack at her before he did. She grimaced and crouched next to him, watching him carefully.  
            "What the hell did you do that for?" Steve shouted, crouching next to her. "He didn't know what he was doing!"

"Exactly," Natasha said evenly. "He'll wake up in a few and maybe he'll be free. Probably. Those things pack a good punch and he was already fighting it himself."

"I'm trusting you," Steve said, holding her gaze.

"You said you would," she said with a smirk. "I hope you do."

Steve dragged Bucky behind the remaining standing chair while Tony flew out of the tower in his suit, followed by Thor who entrusted Jane's protection to the rest of the Avengers. Bruce transformed into the Hulk and wasted no time in grabbing Clint, Natasha, and Fury and jumping off the building.

"Not even fighting?" Steve asked Sam with a lifted eyebrow.

"Guess he wants you guys to live or something," Sam smirked. "Smart guy. I'd like to not stay in an exploding building, I dunno about you."

"I really don't want to lose my shield again," Steve grumbled, "It took forever to find it last time."

"Sorry, Cap." Tony swooped over them and gathered up Steve and Bucky before grabbing Pepper as well. "God, you're heavy! Let's blow this popsicle stand!" He waited until Thor had his cargo before flying toward the hole in the wall. Before he could manage it, the assailants blasted at the same spot again, anticipating their only escape route, and blew them backwards again. Bucky and Steve came free from Tony's grasp and were buried under the collapsing top of the building. Tony swore loudly and flew out of the only exit after Thor as Pepper started screaming,

"You can't leave them! Tony Stark, you can't leave them behind! They're your friends!" She was crying and Tony forced himself to ignore it as he said tersely,

"I'm not leaving them. I'm getting you somewhere safe first. I'm coming back." He flew to ground level, blocks away from the attack on the tower. It took him all of five minutes to find somewhere far enough away that he thought she would be safe, but it was hard to land with the gathering crowd. After yelling and screaming for them to move, he set Pepper down as gently as he could manage before telling her,

"I'm coming back for you! Stay right here."

Tony pushed the Iron Man suit as fast as it could go, and no less than one block from the tower, he saw it collapse in on itself, having taken too much fire to hold on any longer. It was, as predicted, like watching the Twin Towers go down again, only this time he knew every single person in the building. Including Steve and Bucky.

~

Bucky’s eyes opened marginally to see a spec of light five feet away from his face. Other than that, there was darkness. When he tried to move, he found pain - when he breathed, when he blinked, when he tried in any way to move his body.  He was stuck fast in the rubble of Avengers tower. Tears rose to his eyes when he tried to move at least his metal arm and it pulled on the rest of his body and felt like it was going to rip off at the seams.

From what he could tell, it was evening. It had been hours since the attack. And no one found them. Suddenly, Bucky felt something contract on top of him and felt around with what little mobility his hand has and sensed someone else’s hand there. _Steve._

“Steve,” he whispered, finding it painful to speak. He can feel dust lining his lungs and when he coughed. “Steve!” He could barely draw breath himself, and when he did, the rocks above him shifted ever so slightly to crush his ribcage even more. _Steve’s an asthmatic_ passed through his mind more than once until he remembered that Steve hadn’t had an asthma attack for seventy years and most likely wouldn’t have one ever again. He heard voices far away, and tried to make out what they were saying. He couldn't, but figured HYDRA wouldn't let them go so easily. Not that it was easy to be crushed under the weight of an entire building. Not the whole building, but enough that they would die if they stayed where they were for much longer.

Bucky pulled much harder on his left arm and bit his tongue to keep from crying out. He finally freed it, though not without significant pain along the seam, and started to plan their escape. He shook Steve's shouder lightly to try and wake him, but to no avail. _We need a hospital…but how can we? He needs it…think, Bucky…think…_ He wrapped his metal arm protectively around Steve’s chest and noticed Steve’s breathing changed slightly. Injured ribs, probably. All the more reason to fix this as quickly as he could.

_There’s nothing else I can do. I’m going to have to fight our way out._

“We’re here!” Bucky shouted, his voice still raspy. “Over here!” There were shouts, some relieved, some mutinous, as strangers started to dig them out. They tried to pull Bucky away from Steve, and he wrapped his now free legs around Steve’s to make them inseparable while he waited for them to free him completely. The minute both he and Steve were free, he lashed out at the workers and took three of them down at once. He heaved Steve into a fireman’s carry and kicked out at two more, presumably breaking their knees. He could feel his right arm hanging at an awkward angle, probably broken, dangling uselessly at his side.

_I have to protect Steve…I have to protect Steve…_

Bucky charged the last one blocking his escape route and started sprinting down the street and away from them. His legs and lungs protested with every step, as did his head, which is pounding mercilessly, making the world spin and threatening to make him black out from the pain. He heard gunshots behind him; it sounded like they were armed but woefully unprepared to actually use their weapons. HYDRA slipped up by using these buffoons, as usual. He just hoped they wouldn’t hit Steve. He gritted his teeth and kept running, stumbling from Steve’s weight, but with a single goal in mind _. Saving Steve_. He finally collapsed in an alley behind a dumpster, hiding both himself and Steve from view on the street. He didn’t have the energy to run any further even if he wanted to. He estimated he put a mile of distance between himself and the fallen tower, and he hoped for tonight it will be enough.

_It won’t be…you have to keep going…_

_I can’t. I can’t do it. My arm is broken, my ribs are probably broken, and so are Steve’s…_

Steve’s head leaned against Bucky’s chest and Bucky kept his arm firmly wrapped around Steve’s shoulders. He couldn’t let himself sleep but _so tired_. He yawned and started pinching himself to stay awake. At one point in the night, a kid wandered down the alley, only to have Bucky sneer at him. The kid squeaked and ran away, not recognizing either of them.

The next day was gonna be rough if Steve didn’t wake up. He was alive, but struggling. Bucky started to worry he’d punctured a lung, but Steve’s breathing didn’t falter, even if it did slow or wheeze on occasion. The next afternoon, Steve still hadn’t woken up. Bucky decided it was about time he assessed the full extent of Steve’s wounds, as he’d already identified his own (something he knew to do by practice now, and he’s excellent at telling within a couple of minutes where and how badly any part of his body is hurt).

Steve was still wearing the light cotton blue shirt and khaki pants from the tower, both of which were torn and burned in various places. Heart pounding with fear of what he might find, he carefully removed Steve’s shirt (very conscious of the fact that he doesn’t know when they might get a change of clothing) and took a sharp intake of breath when he saw the damage.

Apparently shielding Steve’s body was easier when his body completely covered Steve’s because he was so small. Now, it looked like it didn’t do anything to help. There are lacerations across Steve’s chest, and bruises, both originating from rubble falling on top of them. Bucky may have broken Steve’s fall, but he didn’t protect him from anything falling on top of him. He found grazes from bullets in a couple of places - a piece out of his shoulder, another on his ankle. _It could be worse. He could be dead – neck broken, spine twisted, impaled…you did what you could_.

The bruises only appeared on his chest, so his ribs caught the brunt of the damage. He wasn’t coughing up blood, so he safely assumed his lungs were intact (but for how much longer he didn’t know – he must move him as little as possible). He felt the ribs as gently as he can manage and identifies two fractured ribs and two more bruised. Steve was going to have a hell of a time when he woke up. He also had some ugly scratches on his face and a bruised cheekbone. Bucky carefully replaced Steve's shirt and leaned back against the alley wall.

Bucky prayed that everyone else got away okay – he never got to see if they did. He only remembered darkness and didn't know when the assault started. All he remembered was the Winter Soldier, creeping back into his mind. He shoved it deeper still, into a part of his soul he hoped would never resurface again. He hated being controlled, especially when he'd broken free by himself before.

~

“Buck?” Steve gasped as he sat up quickly, panting hard like he’d been running. His blue eyes were bright and alert as he stared at the man sitting across from him in the dark alleyway, head down, eyes exhausted, and picking at the scabs on his arm. Steve immediately picked up on the awkward angle of Bucky’s arm and asked, “Bucky, is your arm broken?” Bucky ignored him and avoided his gaze.  

“What happened to everybody else?”

“…”

 “How long has it been? Where even are we?” Bucky shrugged and started scratching at the scar on his shoulder attaching the skin to metal. Steve frowned at him and smacked Bucky’s hand away from the seam.

“Stop touching it. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Bucky shrugged again and when Steve took another breath, he felt a sharp pain in his chest and he gasped, making it hurt more for an instant. Bucky finally snapped his gaze to Steve’s, his eyes full of concern. Steve gingerly touched his chest where it hurt and flinched when he touched the sensitive bruised areas.

“Okay, well what happened to my ribs? The last thing I remember is you falling down again.” Bucky snorted.

“Last thing I remember is someone hitting me in the back of the head. Two of your ribs are fractured and at least two are bruised. That’s going to be a problem if we can’t fix them soon.” Steve gasped another breath, wincing in pain and trying his hardest not to.

“I’ve had worse,” he smiled halfheartedly. Bucky’s face fell and through a scowl he mumbled,

“Sorry.”

“I don’t blame you,” Steve said, waving his hand vaguely, a rehearsed line. Bucky knew he was being sincere, but they’ve had the conversation so many times Steve didn’t seem to even think about an answer anymore – he knew the right answer.  

“So what did you do?” Steve asked again, insisting on an answer.

“I…ran. I just ran. We were trapped, I fought us out.” Steve watched him for a minute before he looked down and away at the ground.

“Sorry I wasn’t any help,” Steve grumbled, running his pointer finger along the ground in the dust. Bucky gave him a sideways smile and reached his arm across the alleyway towards Steve, his hand outstretched. Steve let a small smile creep across his face as he leaned forward and took his hand. His ribs complained and Steve pulled away with a wince, holding his hand to his chest. He decided he would defy the pain and before Bucky could pull his hand away, he put his own hand back out quickly and took it, making his ribs complain even more, and it showed. Bucky pulled him gently over to his side of the alley and Steve held his breath until the pain subsided. Bucky waited patiently until Steve’s body relaxed to say anything.

When Steve looked at him, Bucky saw exhaustion in his eyes. Exhaustion and affection, but mostly the former. Bucky put his arm around Steve’s shoulders, trying to forget for a minute that Steve was in pain (as was their custom), and pulled him close.

“I am so sorry,” Bucky said, his mouth against the top of Steve’s head. “I am so, so sorry. Everything went to shit when I showed up on your doorstep.” Steve laughed under him and pulled away to look at him.

“Not everything’s about you, you idiot,” he said. “The world went to shit before you showed up again.”

Bucky smirked at him, but frowned when Steve grabbed his left hand before he could take it away. They both knew Bucky didn’t like Steve touching it just because Bucky felt like it was a reminder of everything he’d done wrong and what someone had forced on to him that he violently did not want. This time, he didn’t force Steve to let go, and took it as a defeat that Steve could grip it before Bucky could take it out of his reach. Although he should have realized that with Steve already leaning against the metal arm, that would have been hard.

Steve examined it, turning it over slowly in his hands and rubbing certain parts with his fingers, and then looking questioningly up at Bucky as if wondering if he could feel it. Bucky quirked an eyebrow at him and sighed, not responding. When Bucky wasn’t looking, Steve quickly pecked the back of his metal hand. Bucky flushed with color and turned quickly to look at him.

“Could you feel that?” Steve asked, his face completely deadpan.

“I’d say,” Bucky snorted, though he was still blushing. “Why’d you do that?”

            “I dunno,” Steve said, looking down at his own hands now. “Maybe because you needed someone to accept it instead of treating it like the elephant in the room.”

            “Are you calling me fat?” Bucky joked. Steve grinned.

            “You said it, not me.” Bucky whacked the back of Steve’s head lightly, but it still spent Steve’s field of vision spinning. He closed his eyes to steady himself and Bucky waited again, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty again for hurting him. Maybe he should be more careful with Steve.  

            “Do you think they’re all okay?” he asked, when he finally recovered, staring up at the stars.

            “Who, the Avengers?” Bucky said. He glanced at Steve curiously. “Yeah. Your friends are the most resourceful, hard-to-kill sons of bitches I ever met. They’ll be fine.”

            “I hope so.”  Bucky didn’t remember when they fell asleep, but eventually they did, leaning on each other as if afraid if they weren’t touching the other would disappear.

~

Bucky woke up to the sound of Steve gasping and wheezing next to him.  

“Bucky! Bucky, I can’t breathe…” Bucky sat up quickly and moved in front of Steve, trying to remember what they did when this happened before, when Steve was smaller. When he was an asthmatic.

“Like what? Like an asthma attack or like you punctured a lung?” he asked urgently, trying to keep Steve focused on him. Steve shrugged, but could barely draw a breath and his lips were slowly turning purple. “Shit, Steve!” Bucky made him stand up and pulled his shirt off to look for any additional damage that would indicate a punctured lung. He felt all his fractured ribs quickly to see if they moved, and thankfully, they hadn’t. Asthma attack it was. Bucky never thought he’d be so glad that Steve was having an asthma attack – it was easier to fix and less in need of real medical attention, at least for them.

“Steve, you’re having an asthma attack, you’ll be okay!” Steve gave him a look that said ‘Really?’

“I thought…I couldn’t…get those…anymore…” he gasped, and Bucky shushed him.

“Your healing is more focused on your other injuries instead of your breathing, so that’s probably why. I’m guessing you could get drunk right now if you wanted to. That serum can’t fix everything all at once,” Bucky guessed. He wasn’t sure, but that explanation made the most sense.

It was one of his more serious attacks, so Bucky grabbed his shoulders and sat him up straight against the wall and made Steve look at him. And suddenly, he remembered.

“Steve. Remember what we used to do? You remember, right? When we were kids – you have to breathe!” Steve gave him a look that made Bucky roll his eyes. “In on a count of four, out on a count of six. You’re making yourself panic – stop panicking. I’m here, I’ve got you, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” Steve nodded and closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. “Breathe in, two, three, four, and out, two, three, four, five, six. In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, five, six.” Bucky talked patiently with Steve and it took him a couple of tries before he got the rhythm right. His lips steadily went from purple back to a pale pink and then to a flushed red, encouraging Bucky to continue. While he talked him through it, Bucky pressed his thumbs against a point on Steve’s inner shoulders, right above his armpits that was supposed to help him relax. Usually even with the breathing exercises and the pressure points, Bucky would still need some sort of medicine to get the attack all the way down, but when Steve started to breathe freely again, he thanked God – or Erskine – for the super soldier serum.

When his breathing was finally back to normal, Steve leaned forward until his head was against Bucky’s chest, and Bucky noticed his whole body was shaking. He was terrified. Bucky slowly rubbed circles on Steve’s back with one hand until Steve reached up and grabbed his arm, holding it tightly.

“Dammit,” he cursed under his breath. “I can’t believe I forgot how those felt.”

“Well, good thing I didn’t forget about how to fix you,” Bucky said with a smirk. He held Steve close to him for another minute before pushing him up slowly.

“Come on, we need to move. I haven’t eaten for three days and I’m _starving._ ”

“Where are we supposed to go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Bucky said darkly. “We’re still too close. We need food, disguises, clothes, and –NO!” Bucky swatted at the dart before it caught Steve in the back of the neck. It electrocuted his metal arm when it touched it, and he yelled and waited for his arm to reboot, the way it usually did. As he expected, it did, but slower than usual. Steve dove to the ground to avoid a second dart and Bucky grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and forced him to move forward towards their only exit. He pushed his way in front of Steve and held his metal arm in front of him to fend off any attacks.

“Wish I had that shield right now,” Steve cursed while they ran out of the alleyway towards their attackers.

“Quit losing it then!” Bucky told him before swatting away another dart and wincing when the arm dropped again. Two HYDRA agents stood directly outside the alleyway, one of which Bucky tackled the minute he reached him. The other agent aimed square at Bucky’s back and would have fired had it not been for a kick in the face from Steve. When he fell, Steve got on top of him and started pummeling him into the ground. Bucky had to pull Steve away from him to stop him from killing the HYDRA agent. Steve was hyper-alert at that point and had to force himself to focus on the task at hand, which was getting away, not getting revenge.

What they didn’t see was the man across the street. A dart snagged Steve in the small of his back and he yelled for Bucky when he fell to the concrete and arched his back in pain. Bucky stopped and ducked to miss another dart and barely made it back to Steve when Steve pulled the dart out of his back and threw it on the ground. Bucky was going to ask and then decided to leave it for later.

And so they ran. They didn’t stop until they found a street filled with people shopping in the middle of the day. Steve put a hand to Bucky’s chest to signal to him to stop running and start walking, and Bucky frowned at him silently when Steve lowered himself slightly and started walking with his knees more bent than normal to make himself shorter. They fell in with the crowd when Bucky started copying him and soon they lost the yells of the HYDRA agents behind them.

~

Steve steered Bucky into a bar, which he figured would be one of the last places HYDRA would expect them to go. He kept his hand on Bucky’s wrist as he led him through it, and Bucky followed him silently, trusting Steve to keep them safe. In the bar, there was a counter along the wall, along with pool tables on the other side of the room and a smooth wooden floor between the two sides that seemed to be a dance floor. It was the largest and most crowded portion of the room and the music blasting in the background encouraged the young people around to dance. Steve glanced back at Bucky to see his reaction, and grinned when he saw Bucky’s eyes wide and his mouth slightly ajar in surprise and a bit of annoyance.

“Is this what people listen to these days?” Bucky yelled over the music. “This garbage?”

“Yep,” Steve laughed. “This is it.” Steve saw over Bucky’s shoulder two men dressed in suits step into the bar, their hands by their thighs, most likely covering weapons.

“Bucky, dance floor, now,” he said. He pulled Bucky onto the dance floor and pushed their way to the middle. Bucky made a face when he saw the couples dancing together in the middle.

“What are they doing?”

Steve lifted an eyebrow and settled on, “Dancing, I guess.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Bucky snorted. Steve looked over Bucky’s shoulder again and watched the men push their way through the crowd, towards where the two are standing awkwardly in the middle of grinding couples. And then Steve remembered something.

“Bucky, don’t ask questions, just follow my lead,” Steve said, before pulling Bucky close to him and pressing their lips together.

Bucky let out a surprised gasp, his arms frozen by his side. Steve’s hands were on his wrists, and once Bucky recovered, he rested his hands tentatively on Steve’s hips. Vaguely Steve heard a derisive comment to the side of them, but he didn’t care. Their jaws bumped together clumsily and Steve felt Bucky grin against his mouth. Bucky hooked his fingers into Steve’s belt loops and pulled his hips closer, kissing him harder than Natasha or Peggy ever did. Steve released one of Bucky’s wrists to move his hand to the back of Bucky’s neck, keeping him as close as he could manage. They weren’t really thinking about it anymore – HYDRA didn’t exist, the Avengers didn’t exist, their problems didn’t exist – it was just Steve and Bucky, the way it had always been, and the way it should always be. It came naturally.

 Steve brought his hands up to Bucky’s face, slowly making circles with his thumbs along his jawline and ever so slightly tugging at his hair. The kiss was familiar and comforting despite the fact that it was raw and desperate – it filled up Steve’s chest with a longing that demanded to be satisfied.

And then it ended. Steve kissed the corner of Bucky’s mouth before Bucky stopped, pulling away quickly as though surprised. They were both panting slightly and Bucky grinned stupidly before asking,

“What was that for?” 

            Steve cleared his throat and effectively cleared his thoughts so that actual coherent sentences would come out of his mouth as he replied, “A cover. Uh, I think. Something Natasha did when we were, er, on the run from SHIELD.” Bucky laughed.

            “You kissed Natasha Romanoff? Jeezus, Steve…”

            “Not on purpose,” he said, but Bucky didn’t seem to be paying attention. Bucky’s grin faltered slightly when he said,

            “So that was for the benefit of HYDRA?”

            “No – public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable. It was to their disadvantage.”

            “And that was it?” Steve thought for a minute before deciding not to respond. He didn’t trust his honest reply to that. Bucky huffed and said,

“Do you just want to stay here for now? They don’t know we’re in here, I guess, thanks to whatever we just did.” Steve nodded eagerly and Bucky pushed him out of the crowd towards the counter. Steve sat down and Bucky plopped on to the seat next to him.

            “You know we can’t get drunk, right?” Steve said.

            “We can if we’re hurt like we are right now,” Bucky grunted. “Probably. Our bodies are too busy fixing other stuff. It’s not a crime to try.”

            “Do you even have any cash on you?”

            “Don’t worry about it.”

~

            That evening, Steve and Bucky were moderately buzzed and full of food that Bucky convinced the owner to give them after pulling a chip out of his metal arm that plugged into the cash register and made it go berserk. Steve was sure that the chip was some kind of free cash card. It wasn’t right, but it was all they could work with right now. When he asked Bucky why he still had it and where he got it, Bucky shrugged noncommittally and mumbled something about Tony. Free money, then, or Tony's. Not bad, but not something Steve openly embraced. Though, to Bucky’s credit, he’d never used it to get out of paying before, at least not around Steve, and as far as Steve knew he didn’t take advantage of it. He trusted Bucky not to take advantage of it.

            When Bucky started apologizing again, for letting Steve down, for killing people, for almost killing Steve, Steve suddenly realized he was seriously drunk, and it was not a good thing. Bucky feeling guilty for things that weren’t his fault was infuriating, not because Bucky himself was infuriating, but because the people that made him a weapon in the first place were.

            “Bucky,” Steve said, slamming his hand against the counter top. “Shut. Up.” Bucky stopped mid-sentence and held his mouth ajar for a second before closing it. His eyes were wide with an emotion Steve best identified as hurt.

            “But –”

            Steve, who was pretty drunk himself, put his hand over Bucky’s mouth and said,

“Shut up. You’re drunk and you’re just talking to fill the space.”

“But it _hurts_ , Steve, it hurts right here.” He pointed dumbly at his chest to indicate his heart. Steve could feel himself getting choked up and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

“It shouldn’t hurt, Bucky. It wasn’t your fault. None of it.”

“But I-”

“No. You saved me so many times I’ve lost count – I’d probably be dead without you. When I finally got the chance to return the favor, I failed. You suffered by yourself in a horrible place for seventy years and you had no one looking out for you, no one even looking _for_ you. I watched you fall off a mountain and letting that train carry me away from you is the worst decision I’ve ever made. And then you saved me again by jumping off a helicarrier. You’ve done so much for me and I haven’t done anything to deserve it. So stop apologizing – I should be apologizing to you.”

Bucky stared at him for another second before leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. Then he seemed to come to a conclusion and said,

“You’re worth it. You’ve always been worth it to me.”

“Thanks, but I –”

“End of conversation,” Bucky said, waving his hand. “You’re right, or at least, you were right to tell me to stop talking.” Steve felt a little drowsy and started to put his head into his arm on the counter, so he was surprised when he felt someone tug his other arm hard enough to pull him out of his seat and suddenly he was on his feet.

            “Time to go,” Bucky said, pulling him towards the door. Steve glanced around the room and didn’t see any immediate threats.

            “Why?”

            “‘Cos the booze is messing with my head and I need it to stop. Besides, there are girls on the other side of the counter staring over at us and I’m really not ready for that right now.” He quirked an eyebrow at Steve and Steve rolled his eyes and smirked.

            “We can talk about _that_ later.” He patted Bucky on the back when they walked out and struggled to hold him up before Bucky fell to all floors and threw up on the pavement.


End file.
